Fearless
by drakorene
Summary: I know I'm going to get it once I get home. I practically ran away for the summer to Camp Rock after letting my cousin Shane convince me it was a good idea. Might as well enjoy it while it lasts. Nate/OC Smitchie Jaitlyn
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Here's a new Camp Rock story about Shane's cousin who goes to Camp Rock against her parents' wishes. Please review and let me know what you think!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own _Camp Rock.

* * *

_**Chapter One: Worth It for the Rebellion**_

I ask them every year. It started four years ago when my cousin came back from camp as a rock star. Since then, I've wanted to go to Camp Rock, too. My parents repeatedly say no, but I've continued to ask every March when the registration starts and again in May right before it ends. The answer never changes, and by now, it has become more of an act of rebellion than a real question. This year is no different.

"Can I go to Camp Rock this summer?"

My parents have obviously been expecting this for a few days already. They're not in the least surprised, and they continue to eat their dinner.

"No, Kimberly," my father says, sighing.

"Why not?" I ask.

"Kimberly, we tell you the same reasons every year," my mother puts in, annoyed.

"Well, I want to hear them again," I respond saucily. "I personally think they're crap."

"No swearing, young lady," my father reprimands harshly. "You have younger siblings who look up to you. Don't set them a bad example."

I look around the dinner table at my little sister and brother. At twelve, Jessica looks bored with a conversation she's heard at least three times. Fifteen-year-old Adam grins wickedly at my predicament. I decide that the swearing doesn't matter. They don't exactly look up to their sixteen-year-old sister.

My mother begins her well-rehearsed speech (which she has given every year). "We can't send you to Camp Rock because we can't afford it. With two children in college and three who have yet to go, money is a little tight." I notice that, as usual, she doesn't mention my oldest sister, Laura. There's a wide rift between them, and my mother often chooses to ignore her eldest daughter's existence. "You know what our financial situation is like." Yes, I do know. With a father who is a hotel manager and a mother who is an elementary school teacher, we have a pretty good and stable income. But when you add to that the six children they've had to support and raise, there's not a lot left for our summer activities. My mother is still talking. "And I don't want to waste our money on this camp." That's right: waste. My parents don't exactly support my dreams of becoming a singer. They'd rather I became a doctor, like my brother Kyle. "You should get a job this summer, Kimberly. That would be fun," my mother tries with a small smile. "And you'd have some extra pocket money."

"A job?" I ask dully.

"Yes, even Adam's working this summer. He's waiting tables at the hotel restaurant. And Kyle and Sarah are starting their summer jobs as soon as their semester ends."

I admit I wouldn't mind working. And I _could_ use the money. After all, I need to buy sheet music every once in a while. And I always buy my cousin's CD's when they come out. (His band, Connect 3, met at Camp Rock.)

"Mom," I say, trying not to whine as I've done in the past. I'm sixteen now, after all. I must act more mature. "I understand that the financial aspect of Camp Rock is…difficult. But maybe Uncle Brown could get me a discount. After all, he does own and run the camp."

"Kimberly, even with a discount, we'd have to pay for your flight from California to New Jersey and back. And that costs money," my father says, setting down his fork and getting up from the table. "I know you enjoy your music, Kimberly, but I think you should try setting your mind to something more worthwhile."

I get up, angry. "My music _is_ worthwhile. You used to think so, too. You used to pay for piano lessons. But all of a sudden you've turned the tables on me. My _music_ is what keeps me sane in this damn house!" I storm out of the dining room and run up the stairs to my own room. I hear my father yelling after me.

"Kimberly Anne Lewis! You get back here right now!"

I shut and lock the door. I throw myself on the bed and stare at the ceiling. At least I can hide in my room. Last year I couldn't even have done that. I had to share a room with Sarah, but she left for college in the fall.

I groan. The fight has never gotten this bad. Usually I accept it. But I'm running out of chances. I have one more year of high school after the summer is over. That means I have two opportunities to go to Camp Rock.

I grab my cell phone from my bedside table. I'm lucky I even got one. But when I got my driver's license, my parents realized that I would need one if I was going to go somewhere. Not that I have my own car…

I punch in my cousin's number.

"Hello?"

"You are so lucky you're an only child," I immediately say.

"They said no again, right?" Shane says sympathetically.

"They said we can't afford it and they don't want to send me anyway. Dad said to try something more worthwhile."

"Kim, you always give up. Give them some good reasons," he suggests. "My parents didn't want me to go at first, but when I told them I'd never be happy again, they let me go."

"I try telling them that music means everything to me, but they won't listen. And they don't care about me following my dreams. Remember what happened to Laura? She wanted to open a bakery, but my parents said it was too risky. But she did it anyway and now it's doing very well. Of course, Mom and Dad aren't speaking to her after she stormed out as soon as she graduated high school." I still talk to Laura, as do all of my siblings, but my parents won't receive her because she disobeyed them.

"That was years ago, Kim! Don't you think they've learned a lesson from it by now?"

"No. They refuse to budge." I sigh heavily. "Forget it, Shane. I'm not going."

"Come on, Kim. You have to. I want to see you again. And I want you to meet my girlfriend, Mitchie," Shane urges.

"I can't. No one will pay –"

"Then I'll talk to Uncle Brown. I'll call you as soon as I work something out."

"Alright, give it a shot. Thanks, Shane. Bye."

* * *

I officially love Shane Gray. Purely platonically, of course. He _is_ my cousin, after all.

Shane has come up with a brilliant plan. It took him two weeks to make all the arrangements. He had to get the help of Laura and Uncle Brown, but they were both happy to help. Here's the plan. I have three weeks of school left, and I'm supposed to act like nothing is out of the ordinary. Then, as soon as school is out, I tell my parents that I'm going to stay with Laura (fortunately, they never forbid us kids from seeing our sister). They won't accept or believe it if I say I'll be there all summer, but by the time I should be home again, I'll be far away in New Jersey.

Shane and Uncle Brown are handling the financial part of camp. My uncle agreed to let me have a discount in exchange for working around the camp. Shane is paying for the rest, with my promise to pay him back someday (when I'm older and can afford it). I hate receiving charity, even from my relatives (even the rich ones). But even though Uncle Brown is well-off, he still needs the tuition, so he can't let me come for free. And anyway, I'd feel guilty that the other kids are paying and I'm not.

Shane's plan works. There's the minor setback that I can't take as much along with me as I would like. I only have a duffel bag to take with me. If I brought more, it would look suspicious. The major problem with the plan is that, once I get back, I'll be in serious trouble with my parents. But I won't think about that until the time comes.

Laura picks me up. She doesn't come in or get out of her car. She just honks her horn and I leave, promising to stay for only a week. I'm such a liar.

As soon as I get in the car, Laura grins at me. "Come on, rebel, let's get to the airport."

We drive for about ten minutes when I ask, "Do you think I'm doing the right thing?"

"Yeah, I do. Kim, you can't let Mom and Dad rule your life. I mean, you're still a minor, but that only means that they can set your curfew and punish your wrongdoings – you will be punished for this, you know. It doesn't mean that they can crush your dreams. Sometimes you have to disobey them to do so. And anyway, look how wrong they were about me."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. But it doesn't mean I feel any better about lying to them and practically running away for the summer." I look down at my hands. But then I remember my father's words. _Try setting your mind to something more worthwhile_. And if there's one thing I know, it's this: my music is worth it.

* * *

Uncle Brown is the one who comes to get me at the airport. Obviously, Shane knows well that if he comes, he will get mobbed by fans. So I find Uncle Brown right outside the baggage claim. I haven't seen him for at least four years. He and my mother had a falling out many years ago over his chosen career and we rarely see him. But now I've never been happier to see my uncle.

"Kimmie!"

Apparently, he still remembers (and uses) the nickname he gave me when I was twelve. I forgot how close we were. He always encouraged my music.

"Hey, Uncle Brown!" I greet, grinning.

Brown gives me a brief hug and grabs my bag. We walk out to his car, exchanging "How are you?"s. Once inside the car, Brown turns to me very seriously.

"You do realize how much trouble you'll be in when you return, right?" I nod. "I know I'm supposed to be the young, cool uncle, but I have to say this now. To all intents and purposes, I'm going to be your guardian at camp, okay? If anything happens – if you get hurt or sick – you come to me. Likewise, if you break camp rules, you'll answer to me, just like everyone else. But you are in my care, understand?"

"Yes, Uncle Brown," I say honestly.

"Good," he says, starting the car.

"Uncle Brown?" I ask hesitantly. "What are we going to do about the registration papers and everything? I mean, my parents are supposed to sign stuff…"

"I'll handle it. Your parents will know where you are eventually, so I'll talk to them," my uncle responds. I breathe a sigh of relief.

I'm so exhausted from the five-hour flight that I fall asleep.

When I wake up, the car is driving down a dirt road that is surrounded by trees. Soon enough, we've parked on a dirt parking lot behind a large building.

I get out, grabbing a bag. I look around, but I don't see anyone.

"Camp starts next week. It's Thursday today, so you'll be alone for a while," Brown explains. "Connie Torres and her daughter Mitchie should be coming early – on Saturday – too because they're catering. That means Shane and the rest of Connect 3 will probably be here early, too."

Oh, that's right. Mitchie is Shane's girlfriend. Well, it looks like I'll be alone for two days.

"Why don't you grab a cabin for yourself? You get first pick. Just come back and let me know which one – they all have names – because I have to keep it on record."

"Sure thing, Brown," I say happily. I'm safe. I'm on the opposite side of the country from my parents.

My uncle points out his cabin, the cafeteria, the Final Jam concert hall, and various other buildings as we walk around. I spot a small cabin that is kind of isolated from the rest. It's lower down nearer the lake than the others, and I immediately know that that's mine.

Uncle Brown leaves me then and I run to the cabin. I see a sign on the door that says, "Lakeside." Appropriate name in my opinion. I enter to find two bunk beds. I set my bag on the first one. I turn off my cell phone in case my parents call and throw it in my bag.

_I can't believe I'm really and finally here._

_

* * *

_

I spend the next two days exploring camp and setting up my cabin. A few people have come – mostly instructors and camp officials. No one of interest to me. At least, until Connect 3 arrives. I don't see them come. I'm sitting by the lake, going over some of my songs, wondering which one I should perform for Final Jam.

"Kim!" I hear Shane's voice shout gleefully. I turn my head and there they are. Three extremely famous, rich, and gorgeous rock stars. I manage to shrug off my initial feeling of intimidation. This is just _Shane_, after all.

"Shane!" I cry and get up. I'm immediately engulfed in a hug. "It's been so long since I've seen you!" I pull back.

"I know! You look so much older, Kimmie!" Shane laughs. "So, did my plan work or what?"

I laugh, too. "Yeah, perfectly. But I'm so grounded for the rest of my life when I get back to California."

"Well, it's worth it. You're going to love Camp Rock," Shane reassures me with a smile. "Oh, hey, I have to introduce my bandmates."

He motions for the other members of Connect 3 to come closer. They come, one grinning happily, the other with a serious expression on his face.

"This is Jason Curtis," Shane says, introducing the taller boy, who is still grinning.

"Hi, nice to meet you," I say to him with a smile in return. Of course, I do know their names – Shane, Jason, Nate – but I guess my cousin wants to do this properly.

"Shane's been so excited this year. Much better than last year," Jason says. "He kept on talking about his little cousin in the car."

I smile at him, unsure of how to respond. Shane spares me by introducing the curly-haired boy. "This is Nate Simons."

"Hi," I say. Nate gives me a slight smile, but he doesn't say anything.

"Guys, as you know, this is my cousin, Kim Lewis," Shane tells them. They nod and we stand in a slightly awkward silence for a moment.

"Have you picked out your cabin, yet?" Shane asks finally.

"Yeah," I respond. "I chose Lakeside."

"Perfect. Do you mind if Mitchie and her friend Caitlyn join you in there? I want you to get to know each other," Shane suggests.

"Sure, it'll be nice having roommates whom I've at least heard of," I answer.

"Great," he says. He glances at his watch and grins. "Come on." He grabs my arms and starts pulling me towards the parking lot.

"Shane! What are you doing?"

He grins back at me. "Mitchie should be here any minute!"

I can't help but laugh. And when we get to the parking lot and Shane notices a white catering van, I laugh more at his childish delight. He drops my hand and runs toward a kind of short girl with brown hair who is stepping out.

I watch as they hug and kiss each other.

"Disgustingly sweet, aren't they?" Jason comments and I jump in the air in surprise. This makes him laugh while I put on a sheepish grin. I didn't notice that Jason and Nate followed us.

Alright, so _now_ I feel intimidated. Without the familiar presence of my cousin, I feel completely insignificant with these two celebrities.

But Jason grins at me crookedly and I know I don't need to feel that way around him. But Nate, on the other hand…he's just looking off into the distance, tapping his foot to music I can't hear and very thoroughly ignoring me.

I decide to ignore him, too, and talk to Jason instead. "Are you all instructors this year?"

"Yep," the grinning boy answers. Does he ever stop smiling? Does he _know_ how to frown? "Shane's been roped into teaching hip hop again, so we decided to come along. Nate and I are teaching guitar. Nate's teaching beginners and I'm teaching more advanced classes. Do you play guitar?"

I shake my head. "I've played piano, but I mostly sing these days. I wish I could play guitar…"

"Then learn!" Jason jumps in. "Nate's great at teaching beginners. You'll learn in no time!"

I glance at Nate (who is still in his own world) and suppress a frown. How can such a person _teach_ well? He's either cold or arrogant, I decide. Or both. But instead of saying that, I answer Jason with "I would, but I don't have a guitar."

"I'm sure your uncle will lend you one. Or Shane. And if not them, then I will!"

Jason looks so happy at finding a solution to further my musical career that I don't have the heart to tell him I'd rather not.

"Sure, Jason. I'll talk to Uncle Brown," I respond with a fake smile.

Jason grins and is opening his mouth to speak again when I hear Shane yelling to me.

"Kimmie! Get over here!"

I roll my eyes at his quickly-returned bossiness (he always was bossy when we were little) and walk over to Shane and Mitchie.

I smile at the girl, who is very prettily grinning at me.

"Mitchie, this is my cousin, Kim," Shane says, though we both know who the other is. "Kimmie, this is my girlfriend, Mitchie."

"Nice to meet you," I say.

"Nice to meet you, too," she responds. "Shane says you're willing to share Lakeside cabin with me and Caitlyn. You don't mind, do you?"

"Of course not. We'll probably be seeing a lot of each other, so we might as well get to know one another," I say.

"Great." Mitchie turns to Shane. "I'm going to go put my things away, and then I have to help my mom set things up in the kitchen." She gives him a quick kiss on his cheek and walks away with her bags.

Shane stares after her for a moment before looking at me. "I almost forgot, Kim. Uncle Brown wants you to work with Mitchie and her mom in the kitchen while you're here. You might as well go meet Connie."

* * *

The kitchen is right behind the cafeteria. I walk in to discover a middle-aged woman putting a box away into a pantry.

"Are you Mrs. Torres?" I ask.

She pokes her head out of the pantry. "Yes, dear, I am."

"I'm Kim Lewis. My uncle Brown said I'm supposed to work here."

"Oh, yes, of course!" She comes all the way out. "Just come whenever you don't have class. I'll let you know if I need your help at that moment. For now, you could start bringing in the boxes from the catering truck. Just put them over there –" she points "– and I'll put them where they belong."

"Sure, Mrs. Torres," I say and walk out the door. The truck door is open and I climb in, grabbing the first box I see. It isn't very heavy, or big, so I grab another light box and pile it on top to save a trip.

As I walk, I look above the boxes to see where I'm going. But I can't see the ground, and I trip over a root that is sticking out of the ground. I manage to catch myself but not before the second box slides off of the one underneath it.

I close my eyes and groan. Having no top, the contents of the box spill out: plastic forks, knives, and spoons. At least they're all in plastic bags so they're still usable, but now I have to pick them up. I put the other box down and bend to gather the plastic utensils. Once they're all safely back in the cardboard box, I place that one on top of the other again and stand up. I vow that I will not trip over a tree root again.

As I'm walking, I twist my head to look around the boxes at the ground. I catch a glimpse of the lake through the trees and I suddenly remember that I left my notebook of songs out there. _What if somebody finds it? What if somebody _reads_ it?_ I'm a little mortified at the thought.

Suddenly it feels like the top box has fallen again, but when I turn my head back to the path, I discover that the weight is gone because Nate is walking next to me, carrying the box.

He's not looking at me. He's looking towards his destination: the cafeteria. I keep walking next to him silently. He hasn't made a noise. He came silently and said nothing.

"Thank you," I say, but it comes out in a whisper, as if my vocal chords know that I shouldn't break the silence even when my mind says, "Speak!"

Nate nods once in acknowledgement, but still he doesn't speak. So, for the rest of the walk to the cafeteria, neither do I.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Thank you to my reviewer! Keep reviewing - it inspires me to continue writing._

_Disclaimer: I don't own _Camp Rock.

* * *

_**Chapter Two: Dishwashers and Guitars**_

I wake up the next day – Sunday – in a good mood. How could I not be happy? I'm all the way in New Jersey while my parents are in California. I've seen my uncle and cousin again after four years of separation. And I'm at Camp Rock.

Mitchie is already gone when I get out of bed. I did, after all, go to sleep very late, later than the others. After hauling boxes with Mitchie (Nate disappeared right away after delivering his one box), I went out to where I was sitting by the lake, but I never found my notebook. Maybe it fell in the lake. Maybe someone took it. There's nothing I can do about now, in any case. I lay in bed last night, wondering where it was and eventually I had to get up. I left the cabin and rechecked the spot by the lake.

As I was leaving to return to my cabin, I heard a guitar. No voice, no singing. Just a guitar playing an accompaniment. Even I, who hasn't a clue about guitar, know that what I was hearing was not a complete song.

I didn't want to disturb the player, so I went back to my bed. But even in my cabin, the one closest to the lake, and therefore closest to the musician, I could hear the music.

The ghostly echo rings in my ears even now. I'm not sure – now that it's day – if what I heard was a dream or reality.

As I get dressed, I realize that today the rest of the campers are arriving. When I step out of the cabin, I hear shouts and laughter in the distance. Obviously, people are starting to arrive. I check my watch. 11:35. How did I sleep in so late? Usually I get up at nine at the latest. I shrug to myself and head off towards the kitchens. I don't need to be there, greeting every camper. I don't know anyone, so I might as well help Mrs. Torres.

Connie – as she now instructs me to call her – immediately puts me to work making French fries for lunch. I'm not a very good cook, so it's all I can do. Mitchie shows up about twenty minutes later to set up the dining hall. At 12:30, lunch is served and a crowd of campers swarms into the cafeteria.

Mitchie grabs my arms and pulls me over to a table in the back. Shane and Jason are already there, as well as a curly-haired girl I don't know. Mitchie grabs the empty place beside Shane, leaving me to sit between Jason and an empty chair.

"Kim, Caitlyn Gellar. Caitlyn, Kim Lewis, Shane's cousin," Mitchie says, introducing us. I smile at the girl in greeting. She looks like a fun person.

I notice that everyone already has food. Shane obviously got a plate for Mitchie. I'm the only one without a tray in front of me, but I don't have the change to get up because Jason starts talking to me (while the others listen in on it).

"So I talked to Brown, and he is willing to lend you a guitar," he informs me with his customary grin.

I try to muster the same enthusiasm, but I think I fail. "Thanks, Jason. I hope he was able to fit it into my schedule. I do have to work here, too."

"All taken care of. You'll be busy, but I'm sure you'll enjoy it," Jason says. "Right, Caitlyn?"

I raise an eyebrow at this obvious redirection of his attention. I don't mind. I do want to get some food, but this makes me interested. Like any girl, I'm all ears when a guy so obviously likes a girl.

Caitlyn is probably used to Jason's randomness because she immediately says, "Of course. Just make sure you have time for all the jams."

And suddenly Jason and Caitlyn are in a deep discussion of how the jams went last year, while Shane and Mitchie are talking about what Mitchie should perform for the first jam. I should get some food now while I have the chance. I stand up…

…Exactly when a tray of food appears on the table in front of me. And when I turn to look where it came from, Nate is sitting next to me, eating his food and ignoring me.

He's not making a big deal out of it, and just like before, I follow his lead. I sit down again, whisper, "Thank you," and start eating. I notice Shane staring at the two of us with a confused expression. I shrug, and he turns back to Mitchie.

* * *

More campers arrive throughout the day. The members of Connect 3 spend the afternoon preparing their song. They're opening the first jam, which (I hear) will begin right after the initial announcements. Caitlyn is with them to "act as a critic and to suggest improvements." That's what she said anyway. We all know she's just there to be with Jason. Mitchie and I spend the rest of the day in the cafeteria, cleaning up after lunch and setting up for dinner. Mitchie sings as she works. This is the only practice she'll get for tonight.

"What are you doing about the music?" I ask her as we wipe down tables.

"Caitlyn mixed it for me. We met a few weeks ago to do it. I've practiced it a lot, but I still get nervous," she answers, moving on to the next table. "Are you performing tonight?"

"No. I've never performed my music before. Only with the school choir. Never alone."

"You should. It would be good practice for Final Jam," Mitchie suggests.

I nod. "I know, but I only have the words written for original songs. I'm no good at writing the music."

"Girls!" Connie shouts to us from the kitchen.

"Yeah?" Mitchie yells back.

"You better hurry up, or you won't make it to first jam!"

We glance at the clock. It's 3:40 now and announcements start at 4:00. We speed up, quickly wiping the last table, gathering the leftover food from the buffet table, and bringing the dirty plates, glasses, and utensils (actual silverware not plastic) to the kitchen to be washed. At least there's a dishwasher.

It's 3:58. Mitchie jumps around anxiously as we start loading the machine. I turn to her.

"Go ahead, Mitchie. You have to get dressed for the jam, and I can just hear the announcements from you later," I say. Ugh! Do I always have to be so nice? This is going to take forever doing it alone.

"Are you sure?" Mitchie asks. I forgot. She's a nice girl, too.

I wave her off. "Yeah. Good luck!"

"Thank you!" she exclaims. She gives me a quick hug and races off.

I sigh and turn to the piles upon piles of dishes. In silence, I start loading the plates.

"Thank you, Kim," Connie says.

I nod in acknowledgement. "I have to earn my stay at camp, you know."

"So does Mitchie," she remarks.

"I don't mind."

"Well, thank you anyway." She turns to her cooking. "Oh, and there's a second dishwasher behind that corner."

Good. All of these dishes wouldn't fit in one. I spend the next half-hour loading the dishwashers as fast as humanly possible.

As soon as I'm done, I wash my hands and sprint out of the kitchen, shouting back to Connie, "Bye! I'll be back later to unload them!"

And still, by the time I arrive at the beach, it's already 4:40, and Connect 3 has already performed. I sit next to them on a blanket on the ground.

"I'm sorry I missed your song," I whisper to Shane as a new performer steps up to the stage.

"There'll be others," he reassures me.

The blonde girl who performs is, as I learn, Tess Tyler, who caused Mitchie to not be able to compete at Final Jam last year. She's not much nicer this year, apparently.

Mitchie is up after Tess. She sings a new song she wrote. And she's amazing! If my confidence level was low before, now it has sunk somewhere into the ground. I can't sing like that! As she sings, Shane watches in pride, while Caitlyn and Jason grin up at her. Nate, as usual, seems to be off in another universe altogether.

The whole camp claps enthusiastically after Mitchie finishes. She gets off the stage and comes to sit next to us. We all tell her how great she was and she glows with modest delight.

"Are you going to perform, Kim?" Shane asks.

"No, I couldn't," I say, shaking my head viciously.

"Why not?"

"I'm not that good," I respond.

"That's not true. You have to be good to just be at Camp Rock," Jason injects.

"Well, I'm not _bad_. And I am a good singer, but _that_ – Mitchie's performance, even Tess's – was amazing. And anyway, I can't write songs."

"What do you mean?" a new voice asks.

I'm so shocked that I don't answer right away. Finally, I manage to stumble over a response. "I-I can write the-the words, but-but I've never wr-written the music."

You can imagine my surprise when I heard Nate's voice. Of course, I know he can talk – and sing – because of Connect 3's albums. But to hear him speak to me after ignoring me and keeping his stony silence around me…

Nate doesn't speak again. He simply nods and turns his head back to the lake.

I think everyone else is as baffled as I am. Shane and Jason keep exchanging these _looks_, while Mitchie and Caitlyn shrug in confusion and move on.

* * *

That night, we – as in Shane, Mitchie, Jason, Caitlyn, Nate, and I – all sit around one of the many campfires.

I listen to stories from Camp Rock last year. I hear about how, after Final Jam, Shane and Mitchie went for a canoe ride and ended up tipping it over.

"Then we had to walk all the way back to our cabins completely wet! My mom was furious!" Mitchie laughs.

Oh no. Connie. I promised to empty the dishwasher.

I jump up and give a hurried explanation, ignoring Mitchie's question of "Do you want me to help?" and Shane's suggestion that "Connie's probably already done it by now." Instead, I run to the kitchen.

A note on the door reads, "Kim, I went to sleep already as I have to wake up early to make breakfast. If it's not too late, could you still empty the dishwashers? Feel free to sleep in tomorrow – Mitchie will help with breakfast. Thanks, sweetie!"

I enter the dark kitchen. It's already past ten, but I'm going to do the dishes anyway. But I can't find the light switch. I feel the wall around the door, but I can't feel a switch anywhere.

I start moving around, trying to feel my way through the dark. I feel one of my outstretched hands knock over a kettle on one of the counters. It clatters loudly to the ground, and for a moment I freeze, listening to the fading echoes.

The door bangs open and I shriek, stumbling backwards into a counter. My back hits another kettle, which follow the first to the floor. The noise makes me squeal a little more.

But then the lights turn on, and Nate is standing by the door with his hand over the light switch – which is, of course, on the other side of the door from where I searched. I close my eyes in complete mortification. _Oh, God, does this boy only see me make an idiot out of myself?_

I dare to look at Nate, who isn't laughing – thank God – but he does have a curious little smile on his face. It shocks me as much as his voice. I don't think I've ever seen Nate Simons smile. Not even on CD covers. Maybe I am one of the privileged few.

Nate's hand falls from the switch and he shuts the door behind him. He walks towards me, casually, but with his odd smile still in place. I'm already pressed against a counter from my fright and now I feel like I need more room. There's something about his eyes as he stares at me that makes it hard to breathe.

_Stop it, Kimberly Lewis. This is not weird. So don't make it weird,_ I tell myself.

And I force myself away from the counter. I take a single step forward. And I immediately want to take it back because Nate is still slowly approaching from the other side of the kitchen.

But in the end, Nate steps in front of me and bends down to grab the two kettles. He places them back on the counter behind me and silently walks to the dishwashers. He opens them and starts piling plates on the counter above.

My helping instinct takes over my confused mind, and I start taking the plates from the counter and carrying them to the cafeteria to their proper places. (I do manage to find the light switch in there.)

Glasses follow, then knives, forks, and spoons. I take the last set of spoons to the cafeteria and when I return to the kitchen, Nate is waiting by the door. I'm kind of surprised, to be honest. He has pulled the appearing-disappearing act several times around me already, so I thought I'd return to an empty kitchen.

"Thank you for your help, Nate. But you didn't have to wait for me," I say nervously as I walk to the door. We haven't talked all evening while we worked.

Nate smiles again. "Well, I have to make sure you can find your cabin now that the sun has gone down."

It's the most he's ever said to me, and it's a teasing reminder of my earlier mishaps in the dark. I thought Nate was the serious one of Connect 3, the one who doesn't know a joke. But I've been wrong about Nate a lot these last two days, so I can't really be surprised.

As has become our usual, we don't speak as we walk through the now-empty camp. It's past eleven, and curfew is set at eleven, so all the campers are in their cabins.

Nate walks with me all the way to Lakeside, ignoring that we pass the Connect 3 cabin on the way. We stop awkwardly at the steps.

"Thank you again," I force myself to say.

"No problem," he says, smiling his secretive smile again. "It was fun."

I force a smile in return, although I can't understand how putting away dishes in deathly silence can be _fun_.

Nate just stands there, staring, so I blurt out, "Good night," and run into the cabin. The lights are out, and it appears that Mitchie and Caitlyn are asleep, so I pull on my pajamas and slip into bed.

"What was that?" Caitlyn suddenly asks.

"Yeah, I thought I heard you speaking to someone," Mitchie adds, in an all-too-innocent voice. "It kind of sounded like Nate, but I'm not sure."

Yeah, right. I forgot how thin these walls are. They heard every word, loud and clear.

I pull my pillow over my face and groan.

Mitchie turns on a flashlight and gets out of bed, ripping the pillow out of my hands. "Well?"

I suddenly realize that we're acting like we're good friends. We've known each other for so short a time, but I feel comfortable around these girls.

"Nothing!" I protest. "He helped me put away the dishes. That's all."

"That's it? He said it was fun. _That's _not fun," Caitlyn interrupts.

"He's crazy. All we did was clear out the dishwashers. We didn't even speak."

Mitchie gives up and climbs back into bed, turning off the flashlight. I hear her mutter, "Stupid boy. Don't know what's gotten into him."

* * *

That night I dream of dishwashers. A hundred dishwashers, all in a row, all full of clean dishes that need to be put away. But my dream-self isn't put off by this seemingly-impossible task.

Because there, at the first dishwasher is Nate, who is stacking the plates on top of the counter. In silence, we work together to empty the dishwashers.

And oddly enough, when we reach the end, I wish there were more dishwashers.

* * *

The old guitar Uncle Brown has lent me is sitting in my lap. I stare at the page in front of me. It's a fingering chart that was on the music stand when I walked in. Every stand has one, and about fifteen campers are sitting in the provided chairs.

I'm in my first class of Camp Rock: beginning guitar. The class Jason somehow convinced me to sign up for. Everyone else is in the very front seats, eager to be directly in front of a member of Connect 3. I'm in the third row, far enough back to (hopefully) go unnoticed but close enough to still be a part of the group.

Nate walks in, holding his guitar. He has an odd expression, somewhere half-way between annoyance and happiness. But he has no smile.

"Alright, everyone, quiet down, please," he says, sitting down on a chair in front of the class. "I'm here to teach you, and you're here to learn to play guitar. So let's start."

Nate leads us through the basics: how to hold the guitar properly, what the different parts are called, how to use a pick. Then he starts showing us the fingering for notes. Once he's demonstrated, he refers us to our fingering charts and tells us to run through the notes backwards and forwards. He walks between the chairs and listens to every one of us play through the chart.

I notice that Tess is in the class and she pretends to not have a clue, so Nate has to put his hand over her to show her the fingerings. How do I know she's pretending? She grins at her new friends behind his back. I guess since she failed to get Shane last year, and Jason and Caitlyn are obviously getting together eventually, Tess has decided to set her sights on Connect 3's youngest member.

I steadfastly ignore her attempts to flirt with him and I concentrate on the guitar. I slowly move through the notes on the page. Then I do it again. And again. A little faster each time.

"Well done," Nate says quietly. My head spins around. Once again, he has appeared on the seat next to mine with no sound or warning.

"Don't _do_ that!" I exclaim, perhaps a bit louder than necessary to get the point across. A few people turn to glance at us, but they quickly turn back to their guitars.

Nate smiles his strange smile again. "Sorry. I didn't want to stop you. Keep practicing." He gets up and finishes his round.

* * *

My second class is singing. I run to my cabin between classes to put away the guitar. Then I rush to Brown's classroom and plop myself down on a chair next to Mitchie.

Brown calls a few students up to sing in front of the class. He calls on a girl named Ella, on Mitchie, and on a boy named Mark. "One more," he says. I see his finger coming down on me and I shake my head at him. He calls on the boy next to me.

We have lunch next, and after class, Uncle Brown asks me to stay for a moment. I obediently stay in my seat and Mitchie leaves saying, "I'll save you a spot at lunch."

Brown sits down next to me. "You can't be a singer if you're afraid to sing."

I bow my head down. "I'm not afraid to sing. I'm just afraid to sing in front of _people_."

"Kim, I haven't heard you sing for years, but I know you're good. You're in advanced choir at your school. And you used to sing all the time when you were twelve, without a care as to who heard. You were good then; you can't have grown worse. What happened?"

A tear finds its way down my cheek. "I love singing, Uncle Brown. I truly do. But you know my parents don't agree with it. I guess that took away all my confidence."

My uncle is now looking at me very seriously. "Do not let them bring you down, Kim. My sister is very narrow-minded. But she was wrong about me, about Shane, about Laura. Don't listen to your parents on this."

Another tear. "My dad said to pursue something more worthwhile."

Brown looks angry. "He's wrong. If music makes you happy, then it's worthwhile."

"I know," I say. "That's why I'm here. Just give me time. I'm not ready to sing yet."

"Sure, Kim," he says, getting up. "Now, run off to lunch. You're cleaning up the cafeteria after."


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Thank you to my reviewers! Keep reviewing and I'll keep writing!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own _Camp Rock.

* * *

_**Chapter Three: Lost in the Music**_

As I lay I bed, I can hear the guitar again. It's playing a different tune this time, but it's still just an accompaniment. Why doesn't the person sing? There's a missing piece to the songs and I want to hear it.

I want to find the player, but they'll probably stop if they know someone is listening. So I drift off to sleep with a ghostly echo of a song filling my dreams.

When I wake up, Mitchie is above me, holding out clean clothes. She's already dressed and ready to go. We have breakfast duty today. I roll out of bed.

Fifteen minutes later, I'm flipping pancakes (Connie taught me how). I stifle a yawn. It's seven in the morning, and I'm not a morning person. Mitchie is energetically cooking scrambled eggs and humming loudly.

"Hey, Mitchie?" I ask.

"Yeah?" She stops her humming.

"Is Nate always silent?" I wish I didn't ask when Mitchie grins at me.

"No. He's kind of the center of Connect 3. I know, hard to believe with the way he's been acting," she says, seeing my disbelief. "He got the band together, even though he's the youngest. He's the leader, if there is a leader. He _is_ shy, but never as quiet as he's been. Usually he warms up to people really fast. And then he's as talkative as the next person."

"I wonder what's wrong with him…" I say, drifting off.

"I wonder," Mitchie echoes, but she has a knowing look on her face.

* * *

The rest of that first week rushes past as I try to adapt to my busy schedule. Lessons in the morning and afternoon; kitchen duty in the morning, at noon, and in the evening; and my extra guitar practice in Lakeside cabin every day right after my dance class. It's the only time I'm alone and, although I know that no one else in the beginning guitar class practices outside of class (except maybe Tess, who has now chosen a different tactic: impress), I dutifully pull out Uncle Brown's guitar every day at 4:00. I play through the notes and the simple exercises and songs that Nate has begun to assign us. I find, during that week, that I've easily surpassed my classmates and learned how to play all of the assigned material. And I want more music to play. But I'm too nervous to ask Nate for more. What if he says I'm not ready for anything harder?

So I content myself with replaying the old material.

On the weekends, we have no class, but we have other camp activities. On Saturday, we go on a hike through the woods. Uncle Brown has decided not to join us, so the members of Connect 3 are in charge, and they lead us along a trail through the trees.

I didn't bring along hiking boots, so I put on my sneakers instead. I pull on shorts and a t-shirt and I grab a water bottle. Mitchie, Caitlyn, and I are some of the first ones out of our cabin. We walk to the lake, where we find Tess and her friends (Sandy and Lisa) sitting on the dock where we're supposed to meet. Tess is, as usual, trying to be better than everyone else.

"Hello, Mitchie, Caitlyn…new girl," Tess greets. She's not deliberately trying to be mean; it has just become second nature to her.

"This is Kim, Shane's cousin," Mitchie introduces me.

"Oh, that's right. Kim from my guitar class."

I nod and give her a fake smile.

"Isn't Nate a wonderful teacher?" Tess asks. "I've already mastered those songs he gave us. I should really ask him for some harder music."

She smirks, thinking she's superior. I choose not to correct her. Why should I care what she thinks? It doesn't matter who's better. But I have to answer her.

"Yes, Nate is an excellent teacher," I say with a tight smile.

"Mitchie!"

Shane has arrived, I see. Giving her the customary kiss, he pulls Mitchie to the front of a line of hikers. I didn't notice everyone else arrive. Nate and Jason are up front, too, and Jason waves to Caitlyn and me (or possibly just Caitlyn). He motions for us to come to the front, too.

The hike starts out alright. We follow a clear trail for about a mile, but then it starts disappearing. Half an hour later, we campers are sitting on the ground playing word games, singing spontaneously, and trying to amuse ourselves. Connect 3 is a little ways off, arguing over who is supposed to be in charge and whose fault it is that we're lost in the middle of the woods.

"I spy something brown," Mitchie says.

"A tree trunk," Caitlyn guesses and Mitchie nods. "Alright, well, I spy…something headed this way," she says, grinning at Jason, who plops down next to her.

"We're lost," he says, still smiling. He doesn't sound too worried.

"Alright, we're splitting up," Shane announces as he, too, joins us.

"Is that smart?" I ask. "What if somebody never makes it back?"

"We're not moving the campers," Nate explains. He has appeared next to me yet again. "Just me, Shane, and Jason. We're all going to walk straight in one direction for half an hour then come back. We lost the trail thirty minutes ago, so one of us should find it. If not, we'll rotate directions and try again."

"What if you turn somewhere and don't find us again?" I ask him.

"Then we'll wander," Nate answers with his typical smile. My mouth drops open.

"That's not funny!"

Nate actually laughs. Not much, just a laugh that escapes him. Maybe he's finally starting to feel comfortable around me.

"Kim, that's exactly why _we_ have to go. If one of the campers disappeared, Camp Rock would be in serious trouble."

"We'd better go, so we can get back to camp before the sun goes down," Shane says.

The boys get up. Mitchie stands with them. "I'm going with you, Shane," she announces.

"No –"

"Yes! I'm not doing any good here. I promise not to sue your uncle if we never return. And anyway, you shouldn't go alone."

Shane is defeated. "Fine."

"I'll go, too," Caitlyn volunteers. "None of you should go by yourself. I'll go with Jason. Kim, if you don't mind, you can go with Nate."

I see an evil glint in the girl's eyes, but it disappears as quickly as it came.

And before I can protest, Shane and Mitchie have headed in one direction, and Jason and Caitlyn are in another.

"You can stay here. I don't mind going alone," Nate assures me.

"No, it's okay. I'll go. Come on," I say before I can change my mind. Because even though I _don't _want to go, I also don't want Nate to go alone. Although he seems like the most competent of Connect 3…

We head in a different direction from the others.

"So you didn't bring a map or a compass or anything?" I ask, breaking our usual silence.

"No," Nate answers slowly. "Pretty stupid of us, huh? But we never said we were field experts. We're just rock stars."

I grin. "So whose idea was this?" I ask, referring to our attempt to find the trail.

"Mine."

"I thought so," I say, smiling. I like this. I didn't mind the silence, but I like the Nate who talks to me better.

"God, they're so obvious," Nate comments with a laugh. He adds, "Jason and Caitlyn, I mean."

"I know!" I exclaim.

"I think they'll be good for each other," he says. "Caitlyn can put up with Jason's bird obsession and Jason can deal with Caitlyn's unique style and personality. And they're both fun people who just like to laugh."

I don't know what to say, so I just nod in agreement. A few moments of silence pass during which we attempt to walk in a straight line despite the trees and bushes that get in our way.

"You're a fast learner," Nate finally says. "On the guitar, that is. I think you're done with your songs…Why don't you try something more challenging?"

Oh my God. That's exactly what I want!

"Yeah, I'd love to," I answer, trying to hold in the huge smile that eventually breaks through. Nate smiles back at me, no longer a secretive smile, but a genuinely happy one.

* * *

"Do you think the others found the trail?" I ask. We've been walking for a little over half an hour. Soon we'll turn around to report failure.

"Hopefully," Nate says, stumbling over a rock.

I stop and turn around the look back at him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he says, tripping over a tree root.

"And I thought I was the clumsy one," I laugh as I turn around…and fall.

"Ow!" I yell. My ankle is throbbing and I look around at what happened. There! A tree root, a perfect half-circle sticking out of the ground, waiting to trip me.

"Are you okay?" Nate asks teasingly, but with concern etched into his voice as well.

"Yeah," I start as I try to stand, but then my left ankle gives way under me and I fall again. "No."

Nate is already next to me. "Your ankle?"

"Yeah."

"Let me see," he commands and I extend my leg to him.

"I just twisted it, and I didn't hear a crack, so I know it's not broken," I explain.

Nate hasn't touched my foot. He scratches his head awkwardly. "Uh, well, I don't actually know anything about injuries. No point in me looking at it. It just seemed like the right thing to say."

I laugh despite the pain in my ankle. "Maybe we should just go back now."

"Of course. Can you walk?" I give a look. "Right, you can't stand on it, so I'm assuming you can't walk," Nate corrects.

He looks around us as if that'll give him an answer.

"I'll just lean on you, okay?"

"Good idea!"

I almost laugh at his sudden helplessness. He explains, "I'm really not good with injuries. I never know what to do."

"Help me up," I order, stretching out my arms.

Nate takes my hands and pulls me up, letting me rest against his chest while I get my balance. Having had no previous physical contact with Nate, I feel a jolt run through my body. But that might be the pain, I remind myself.

"Alright, let's go," I say.

"Where did we come from?"

"What?!"

"Well, I don't know what direction we came from anymore since you fell and I didn't stay facing the one direction," Nate babbles on.

"Calm down!"

Funny that I should be saying that since I'm unable to walk and now we're even more lost than we were before. I look around. The woods look exactly alike all around us.

"Where should we go now?" Nate asks.

"That direction looks good," I say, pointing in a random direction.

"Okay."

So we begin our long hobble through the woods.

* * *

"I can't walk anymore!" I cry. Literally. I'm lost and tired and in pain. Tears have started gathering in my eyes.

Nate sets me down on a nearby rock. He sits down next to me and asks, "Should we just rest here for a while?"

I nod through my fast-coming tears. I don't want to cry in front of Nate. I don't want to cry in front of _anyone_, but especially not in front of Nate. But I can't help it.

"What's wrong?" Nate asks then mutters, "Stupid question. We're lost, tired, and you have an ankle you can't walk on."

"I'm hungry," I add with a sob.

"Me, too, Kim. Me, too," Nate says sympathetically. He puts an arm around my shoulders and lets me cry.

"How long have we been walking?" I ask once my tears stop.

Nate checks his watch. "We left the group four hours ago."

"Oh God! We'll never find them! We're going to wander forever! We're going to die!"

"Kim!" Nate yells to get through my hysterics. "We will find them. We are not going to walk forever. And we will _not_ die!"

"Sorry." I take a deep breath. "I'm calm now."

"Good. Ready to walk?"

"No, my ankle hurts too much. Let's just wait for a search party to find us," I suggest.

"It's getting dark, Kim," Nate points out. "We have to keep looking. We'll find the camp soon. The others have probably found their way back already."

"But I can't! I just can't, Nate!" I protest, tears springing up again.

Nate sighs. "Fine."

He stands up, pulls me up as well, and picks me up. Easily. Geesh, he's strong.

"And now, we walk," he says, grinning down at me.

* * *

That night Nate stumbles into camp in the middle of Campfire Jam. He really is amazingly strong to carry me around for over an hour (in the dark, too). No matter how light I am, after a while, that starts to burn your arms.

I'm in Nate's arms, my head resting against his chest, completely numb – it's cold without the sun – except for the dull throbbing in my left ankle.

We must look a sight. Not only am I being carried, I'm exhausted, starving, and disheveled with a red and swollen ankle. Nate is worse. He's all that (minus the ankle) and sweating and about to collapse.

When we make our grand entrance, Tess is performing, but when the entire audience turns to watch Nate struggle into camp, Tess cuts off her song. She looks mad, but I couldn't care less, particularly now.

Shane, Jason, Mitchie, and Caitlyn push their way to us.

"Dude, Nate, what happened?" Shane asks.

Nate opens his mouth to answer, but nothing comes out, so I answer for him (in a low murmur since I don't have any energy left).

"I twisted my ankle and we lost track of what direction to go, so we wandered for about four hours until I couldn't limp anymore. Nate's been carrying me for an hour…so help him!" I yelp at the end as Nate almost crumbles. "Nate, just put me down."

"Can't. Move," he answers.

Jason comes forward to take me. Shane goes to his bandmate, who collapses as soon as he's released of his burden.

"Let take you to the sick cabin. Both of you," says Jason, who is, for once, not smiling.

"No, food," I croak out. I'm so hungry!

"I'll get food," Mitchie offers.

"And I'll get Brown," Caitlyn adds.

"Thanks," I manage to say. Then Shane grabs the now-unconscious Nate and we leave, ignoring the questions and stares of our fellow campers.

Jason puts me down in a bed in the sick cabin and Shane places Nate in the bed next to mine. The nurse immediately starts looking at my ankle. Mitchie arrives with food just as the nurse says, "It's not broken, but it's badly sprained." Probably made worse from those four hours of hobble-walking. I eat as the nurse binds my ankle and places crutches next to my bed. "Use these for a week, then come see me. You can stay here for the night."

She tells us that Nate will be fine when he wakes up; he's just exhausted and hungry. At least he hasn't suffered too badly from his heroism.

I lay back against my pillows as I eat. I look up at my friends, who are all watching me eat. "How'd you get back? _When_ did you get back?"

"Well, we –" starts Shane when the door opens and a furious Brown enters.

"Kimberly! How could you go off into the forest like that? You could have been hurt! You could –"

"I did get hurt," I say in a small voice.

"What?"

"I sprained my ankle," I say.

Immediately some of Brown's anger disappears. "Will you be okay?"

"Of course. I'm on crutches for at least a week, though, which," I say, looking at my cousin, "means no dance lessons with you, Shane. Sorry."

"It's not your fault," he says. He turns to our uncle. "It's really my fault they got lost. I should have waited for them to come back or searched for them in the direction they went."

"It's my fault, really," Mitchie puts in. "I insisted on going with Shane, which prompted Kim to join Nate."

"But I'm to blame for that," Caitlyn interrupts. "After all, I was the one who pretty much forced her to go with Nate."

"And I should've stopped her and the other girls from coming with us at all," Jason volunteers. "I'm the oldest. It should be my responsibility."

I can only stare with my mouth open at my friends – my real, true friends as they have just proven – while Uncle Brown deflates.

"Whose fault is it really? I need someone to lecture," he finally says. My friends all clamor to prove their own guilt.

"Shut up!" Nate says hoarsely from his bed as he sits up, and all talking stops. "It's my fault. I took her with me. I didn't prevent her from hurting herself. I dragged her all over the forest for _four hours_ with a twisted ankle. So blame _me_. Lecture _me_. But get it over with because I want to sleep. Some food would be nice, too," he adds as an afterthought.

Brown turns towards the door in frustration, but when he comes back around, he's grinning. "I don't think a lecture or punishment is necessary. You all," he says to Shane, Jason, Mitchie, and Caitlyn, "have suffered enough over blaming yourselves and wondering where they've been for five hours. And you," he says to Nate, "have more than made up for whatever fault was yours. I can't believe you had the energy to carry my niece for – what was it? – an hour? Thank you, Nate." He looks at the healthy people. "Now leave, so these kids can rest."

All of them, my friends and Brown, leave. The nurse is gone, too, which leaves us all alone.

I break the silence. "Do you want some chicken?"

Nate laughs. "Yes. Any food will do."

I hand him my tray. "I've eaten all I can. Mitchie really loaded it."

I watch quietly as Nate starts to eat ravenously, which normally I would consider rude and disgusting, but under these circumstances I completely understand. When he's finished, he puts the tray on the table next to his bed.

We both lay down to sleep. We're in silence for a few moments before I whisper, "Nate? You awake?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks."

"For what?" I can see him turn to face me.

"For taking the blame, for being there with me, for carrying me all the way back. For everything."

"You're welcome."


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Wow! Thank you so much to my reviewers! Your comments make me smile!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything about _Camp Rock.

* * *

_**Chapter Four: Conversational Games**_

The next day, I wake up to voices in the sick cabin.

"Wow, Nate, I didn't know you had it in you," Shane is saying.

"What do you mean?" is Nate's response.

Even though I know it's not right to eavesdrop I stay quiet. I'm facing the wall away from them so I open my eyes, knowing they can't see.

"I mean that you've barely talked to Kim for a week and now, all of a sudden you disappear into the woods for five hours and when you come back, you're carrying her and taking the blame. You never act like this," Shane says.

"I never act like what?" Nate asks innocently.

"Oh, you know exactly what I'm talking about, Nathaniel Simons! You ignore her for days –"

"I did not! I helped put away the dishes with her. And I see her every day in class –"

"But you hardly talk to her, and when you do, it's very impersonal," Shane cuts in. "No, don't interrupt. When I finally got Kim to come, I asked you all to make her feel at home, to be nice to her."

_What?_

He continues, "Mitchie, Caitlyn, and Jason have all done that and now they're good friends with her. But you, Nate – you ignored her for ages. Why?"

"I don't know. I didn't mean to. You know I take a while to warm up to people," Nate says quietly.

"But never this long. Look, I'm not going to beat you up about this. But I just want to know what changed."

"I guess…she just interests me," Nate responds hesitantly. I can feel eyes on my back. "Shane, can we talk about this later? She might wake up any moment."

"Sure," Shane says and I hear a chair scoot back. "You're coming to Games Day, right?"

"I don't know if I should participate. I'm still a bit tired, and my arm muscles hurt like hell. Kim's really light, but after an hour…"

"Yeah, I understand. Actually, as teachers, we just have to referee and stuff, so try to come. Bring Kim," he adds. "You can sit on the sidelines with her."

"Sure," Nate says. I can hear him getting out of bed.

"What are you doing?" Shane asks. "I thought you said you're tired."

"I am, but I'm also hungry. And I think Kim would appreciate some lunch when she finally wakes up."

The door opens and I hear Shane's reply right before the door closes behind them. "And that's the other thing. What was up with you getting her food the first day?"

I turn over in bed. I'm all alone now. My mind finally starts processing all the information.

Shane _asked_ his friends to be _my_ friends? They're doing it to be _nice_? I wonder what Shane told them about my life in California. Did he tell them that I have about two friends? Did he tell them about my restricting parents?

I'll have to confront him about this, I know. I thought they all _want_ to be my friends. I thought they like me for who I am…

I realize suddenly that I'm grateful to Nate for not being nice to me right away. At least I know now that _he_ genuinely cares about me.

* * *

"Kim, you awake?" Nate asks as he enters the sick cabin with a tray of food.

"Yeah," I reply, sitting up with a smile. I'm still angry at Shane, but Nate, at least, doesn't deserve my irritation.

Nate pulls up a chair next to my bed and hands me the tray. I try to act surprised so I don't give myself away, but I've never been good at faking.

"You brought me lunch? Thank you so much, Nate!"

He laughs. "Right. As if you didn't know already." I try to look innocent, but Nate sees through it. "Oh, come on, Kim. I could see your breathing wasn't even. And I think I heard a small gasp. Shane didn't notice, but I did."

I start moving my scrambled eggs around the plate. "I'm sorry I listened."

"I'm sorry about what you heard," he says back, stealing a piece of bacon.

I launch into my attack against my cousin. "How could Shane do that? I thought that, for once in my life, I had real, true friends who care about me. And now I find out that I'm wrong, that Mitchie and Jason and Caitlyn are just my friends because _my cousin_ asked them to be! I can't believe him –"

"Kim, stop yelling," Nate orders. "I know Shane said all that, but they all really do like you."

"But –"

"No. Maybe that's why they all acted nice to begin with. Actually, they're always nice because they're nice people," he says, drifting off for a moment. "But if they were just your friends because of Shane, would they have defended you and worried about you last night? What more proof of friendship do you need?"

I look down in embarrassment and admit, "I forgot about that. You're right, I'm overreacting. But can you just tell me one thing?"

Nate gulps visibly but nods. What does he think I'm going to ask?

"How much about my life did Shane tell you?"

He relaxes and smiles. "Just that your parents don't want you to be here and you had to sneak off. He did say that your parents don't support your music. That's all."

"Good," I say, digging into my food.

* * *

Games Day starts at two o'clock. Nate and I arrive early because Nate has to hear what he's supposed to referee. And I go with him because I'm on my crutches and I need serious help with them. I keep hitting my sore ankle against them when I move. I feel absolutely pathetic. I hurt myself first and then I can't even use crutches properly.

Anyway, Nate and I are already sitting on chairs near the outdoor stage when the other campers arrive. Dee, the musical director of Camp Rock, comes up on stage to introduce Games Day.

"Hey, campers! Today is Games Day!" A cheer rises from the gathered teens. "Alright, alright, settle down! As all you old-timers know, we didn't do this last year. But we've decided that every Sunday, we'll have competitions. You will all be put into teams, which will be your teams until the end of the summer. Every Sunday, you'll have the opportunity to win points for your team. At the end of camp, the winning team will have its own post-Final Jam party!"

We all cheer again. A party after Final Jam means that we get to stay longer. Usually the campers leave immediately once Final Jam is over because their parents come to the performance and it's just easier to leave with them then. For me, that means a few more hours before I see my parents. Not that I'm able to help today in my current state.

Dee continues. "Today, I'm going to announce the six teams and then we'll start off Games Day with some good old relay races!" She takes out a sheet of paper and begins to read off the teams.

Caitlyn and Mitchie get to be teammates on the purple team. I watch as they squeal and run up to the stage to grab their purple-colored bandanas from the box on the stage. The bandanas are how we tell the teams apart.

I hear my name called to be on the red team. I start to stand, but Nate beats me to it.

"I'll get it," he says, flashing a smile at me before getting my bandana. I see a few girls around me give me jealous looks. And for the first time since our adventure in the woods yesterday, I remember that Nate is a celebrity. Funny how a person can forget…

"Here, Kim." Nate hands me a red bandana, which I take and thank him for. I look past him and notice Tess grabbing a red bandana. I groan at the thought of having to work with her. Nate gives me a questioning look and I point at Tess. He understands and gives me a sympathetic smile as he sits down.

Dee finishes calling out the teams. She says, "Now, I want the green team and the yellow team to start with the three-legged relay. Jason will be monitoring that, so please follow him to the appropriate part of the field."

I see everyone with green and yellow bandanas following Jason away from the stage area. Some already have their bandanas tied around their necks or holding back their hair. I tie my own around my head.

"Blue team and red team, you're starting with flag football, so follow Shane to the field."

I shoot Nate an apologetic glance as I stand up and (very slowly) head towards Shane on my crutches. He sees me coming and slows down to accommodate me. As I join him, I hear Tess hiss to her friend Lisa, "Could we move any slower?" Shane glares at her.

The field is a little ways off from the rest of camp. It's actually along the road to Camp Rock. When we arrive, Jason is explaining the rules of the three-legged race and the yellow and green teams are pairing up and tying the provided rope around their ankles.

Another section of the field is set up for a flag football game. I've never understood the game, and honestly, I don't understand it much better even after Shane explains the rules. I'm lucky I don't have to play. So is my team. I'd just make them lose anyway.

There's nowhere to sit, and I don't want to sit on the ground as I doubt I'll be able to get up. So I stand on the sideline near Shane while my team prepares to play.

It seems Tess is determined to win and she has taken captaincy over our team. I'm surprised to see that Tess actually knows what she's doing in flag football. I don't bother paying much attention to the game. I talk to my cousin instead. He's refereeing, but he manages to keep a conversation going at the same time.

"So how's Camp Rock so far?" he asks.

"Great," I answer with a smile.

"You're going to have to say more than _that_," my cousin says, jabbing me in the side with his elbow.

I wince and add, "I absolutely love it. Singing classes are great. Hip-hop has been loads of fun. Even helping out in the cafeteria has been fun. Connie's great and Mitchie's usually there with me. I'm learning a lot in guitar and I've made some great friends here."

Nate is right. Shane didn't force his friends to be friends with me. I shouldn't be mad at him for it. He was just trying to look out for me. Like he's been doing.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Nate leading the purple and orange teams to the obstacle course on the opposite side of the field. He turns his head and catches my eye. I see him grin and wave, so I lift my own hand in acknowledgement. Nate turns to his campers to explain the rules.

I hear a laugh from Shane. "What?" I demand.

"You and Nate are pretty close," he observes with a smirk. He's watching the game again, though, and I can't read his expression any further than that.

"You think I like Nate?" I squeak out.

He laughs again. "No, I was just commenting on your friendship. I'm glad you're such good friends. But I didn't say anything about a crush."

"Good, because I don't like him," I say, even though I'm not sure if I'm being completely honest.

"Yes, you do. You just admitted it by assuming that that's what I was talking about. But don't worry. I promise not to tell him."

Shane turns his full attention back to the game, and I know it's futile to argue. Anyway, I _am_ attracted to Nate. I just don't know if I really like him.

My team ends up winning the game, and we rotate to do the three-legged relay. Again, we're against the blue team. I stand next to Jason and he asks me about my guitar lessons.

"Are you learning a lot? Having fun?"

"Yeah," I reply happily. I'm almost as excited about it now as Jason was back when he suggested that I take guitar. "I admit that at first I doubted Nate's ability to teach, but definitely not anymore. He's even letting me do some harder material than the rest of the class! He thinks I'm good enough!"

Jason grins along with me and asks, "So are you going to play at one of the jams?"

My face falls. "I'm not _that_ good, Jason! I just started a week ago!"

"So? Other beginning students have played before. I know when we came here as campers there were a few." I open my mouth to protest but he cuts me off. "Look, I'm not saying that you should do it next week or even the week after that. But maybe by the end you'll feel comfortable enough. Six weeks is a lot of time. No one will expect you to be amazing. Everyone knows that you've only just started."

"Jason, I can't even sing in front of people, and I've been learning how to do that since sixth grade," I say quietly.

"Then make it your goal to change that this summer," he answers as he looks down at his stopwatch. The race is over and the blue team wins.

We rotate again and I hobble over to Nate's station. I get there as he finishes his explanation. Then he demonstrates what the teams are supposed to do. I watch as he runs around some cones, crawls through a tunnel, and walks across a balance beam. I almost laugh when I see him jump over a hurtle and fall flat on his face. (Tess gasps and immediately asks if he's okay.) Then he finishes it off by ringing a bell which allows the next person to go. Once all ten players have rung the bell, that team wins.

"Someone will have to go twice on the red team since Kim's out for the day," Nate says when he returns to us.

"I'll do it," Tess volunteers. I'm tempted to roll my eyes. She did the three-legged relay twice, too. She's just trying to prove that she is useful while I'm not. Especially in front of Nate.

"Thanks, Tess," he says with a small smile. "Alright, everyone. Choose your order and let's begin."

I stay by Nate as he starts the race. We watch our fellow campers go through the obstacle course. We start talking about random stuff and eventually end on the topic of our friends back home.

"It's just hard to make friends when you're a part of Connect 3," Nate admits. "You never know if someone really wants to be your friend or is just using you. Shane was really lucky to meet a girl like Mitchie. Most girls date us for the benefits, not because of love. Sometimes I wish I wasn't famous. It would be so much easier. But then I think about everything I have and I know I wouldn't give this up. And anyway, I have two best friends in Shane and Jason and that makes up for all the friends I don't have."

"That's exactly how I feel," I say without thinking.

"What do you mean?" Nate asks.

"Uh, nothing," I answer quickly. "Just that I'm really lucky to have friends like Shane, Jason, Caitlyn, Mitchie, and you."

"What about your friends in California?"

I look down, though I know Nate can't see it since he's watching the teams race. "I don't really have any friends back home. I have two friends whom I sit next to at lunch and talk to in class, but I never see them outside of school." I stare at the ground intensely after my confession.

I feel Nate's eyes on me. He answers me quietly. "Kim, no matter what your life is like at home, you will always have friends here and nothing will change that."

I glance up at him but he turns away to watch the end of the race.

* * *

My team wins again. I can't help but feel proud even though I didn't help at all. My team is now tied in first place with the purple and green teams, who also won two out of three games.

After Games Day ends, we go to the mess hall to eat an early dinner. Nate grabs me some food and we sit down with the rest of the group.

"No way! Soccer is ten times better than basketball!" Shane is saying to Jason.

"Have you ever watched a soccer game and then a basketball game? Basketball is way more interesting!" his bandmate shoots back.

"What is this about?" I ask Mitchie in a whisper.

"Argument over what's better – soccer or basketball," she whispers back, rolling her eyes.

"Guys, please," Nate says, clearly irritated. "You've already had this debate, like, twelve times. Aren't you done already?"

I laugh as Shane replies, "Well, so far, we've neither of us managed to convince the other. So no, we're not done." He turns to Mitchie and asks, "Baby, don't you agree that soccer is the superior sport?"

Mitchie shakes her head. "Oh no, Shane Gray, I'm not getting into this. Can't you two just leave it alone?"

"Fine." Shane pouts. "Kimmie, soccer's better, right?"

I bite my lip. "I wouldn't know. I don't watch sports and I've never really played any."

"Never?" Caitlyn asks, shocked. "Not even in gym class?"

"Nope. I've always opted for dance instead of gym," I explain.

"Oh, so that's why you're so good in hip-hop class!" she exclaims.

"I guess," I say as I start to eat my food.

"Are you going to dance at Final Jam?" Caitlyn asks.

"No, if I perform, I'll be singing," I say though I doubt I'll actually have the nerve to do anything up on stage. But with singing I feel the most confident. Although, I have nothing to sing…

"What are you planning on singing?" she presses. "Because if you need someone to mix the music, just let me know. I've got a free schedule since I mixed Mitchie's song before camp even started."

I smile at Caitlyn gratefully. "Thanks, but at this point I have no idea what to sing. I lost my lyrics notebook…"

A chair scoots back suddenly and I see Nate getting up from the table.

"Sorry, guys, I just remembered that I have to do something…" he says as he picks up his tray of half-eaten food.

"What do you have to do?" Jason asks. We're all staring at the curly-haired boy in curiosity.

Nate nervously glances in my direction. "Um, a song – that's right – I have to, um, work on a song for – for Connect 3!"

And he takes off, dropping off his tray with the dirty dishes and practically running through the double doors of the cafeteria.

"What's his problem?" Shane grumbles.

"He's probably just pissed off that you guys were fighting over yet another dumb thing," Mitchie interjects, pointing her fork at Shane and Jason.

"But he was looking at Kim…" Jason argues meekly as he's being stared down by Mitchie.

All four of them look at me in surprise. "Well, what did you do?" Mitchie asks bluntly.

"Try to feel him up under the table?" Shane asks with a smirk.

"No!" I almost shout. I can't believe Shane would say that, especially in front of other people (even if it is just Mitchie, Jason, and Caitlyn). Why would I ever, _ever_ do that? _Maybe because you like him_, says a voice in the back of my head. _Shut up, voice! _Great, now I'm talking to myself.

"Shane!" Mitchie reprimands. "Don't even joke about that. It's not being nice to your cousin."

Her boyfriend ignores her and keeps smirking at me. "But you want to, don't you, Kimmie?"

"Of course not!" I protest vehemently. Maybe too strongly. Because in all reality, Nate is _hot_. No, Kim, don't go there. He's your friend. Nothing more.

"But you like him," my very annoying cousin says in a sing-song voice.

I feel myself start to blush – a lot – and I know there's no hiding it now. "Shane! You promised!"

He just keeps grinning at me. Evil Shane. "I promised to not tell Nate. I didn't say anything about the rest."

"I hate you," I mutter as I get up.

"You hate _me_, but you _love_ Nate," he sings back at me as I leave.

* * *

I hear the guitar again that night. Laying in bed, staring at the ceiling, I listen to a new tune – another one. And it's still just an accompaniment. But this is the best one so far. The person stops playing for a good ten minutes before the music begins again. Maybe the guitarist was writing it down?

After another round of the song, the music stops altogether and I hear footsteps approach my cabin. I'm dying to get out of bed and take a look out the window, but I can't, not when I would have to use my crutches. I'd make too much noise and take too much time. The footsteps fade away.


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Once again, a huge thank you to my reviewers! I love reading your comments! I hope everyone is enjoying the holidays!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own _Camp Rock.

* * *

_**Chapter Five: Tripping into Problems**_

Connie's been spending the last half an hour teaching me how to make the perfect French toast. By now, I could serve a roomful of people with breakfast. I guess it's pretty much what I'm doing now anyway. Mitchie's mom has shown me how to make pancakes, scrambled and boiled eggs, waffles, bacon, and French toast. I'm quite proud of myself; I've always been a horrible cook.

Mitchie barges in right as Connie starts taking the food out to the mess hall.

"Sorry, Mom! I woke up to my alarm and woke up Kim, but then I fell back asleep after she had left! I'm really, really sorry!" she explains all in one breath.

Connie sighs. "Well, start taking those platters of food out. Kim can't carry them because of her crutches. Then you can stay after dinner tonight to do the dishes, Mitchie."

Mitchie casts me a glance of annoyance, at which I offer a half-hearted smile in return, but she accepts her punishment without complaint. She follows her mom to the food and starts taking it out to the cafeteria.

I enter the mess hall to find that almost all the campers are already there. Shane, Jason, and Caitlyn are sitting at our usual table. I don't see Nate anywhere, but he's probably preparing for his class. I plop down on the end chair and prop my crutches against the wall behind me.

"Good morning," I greet.

Jason eagerly returns the greeting. Caitlyn mumbles something about it being too early. Shane doesn't even lift his head up off his arms, but at least he grunts in acknowledgement.

"Morning, Kim," Nate says, a smile on his face, as he sets down a tray in front of me.

I smile back at him and say, "You know, you don't always have to bring me food."

"You can't carry it yourself. And anyway, I don't mind," he replies. "Scoot over, will you?"

I move over one seat, but not before I feel Nate's leg brush against mine. I jolt and fall into the chair. Nate pushes my tray over and places his own in front of him.

Jason and Caitlyn immediately leave in search of food, but Shane hangs back long enough to give me a look that says he saw me jump. I flush a little thinking about what my cousin said last night at dinner.

"Would you mind staying a bit after class?" Nate asks, completely oblivious to my inner turmoil.

"Why?" I manage to say.

"I want to give you something harder to work on. You're still on for a challenge, right?" he asks, throwing a grin in my direction.

My breath catches for a moment. "Yeah, sure, of course."

_Wow, way to sound casual, Kim, _I mentally reprimand myself.

"Great," Nate says, just as the others return, Mitchie with them.

"Kim," Shane starts, sitting down across from me. "I just saw Uncle Brown. He wants to talk to you."

"Why?" I ask through a mouthful of food.

"Your parents called last night."

* * *

"They want you to go home," Uncle Brown says once we're in his office.

"You're not going to send me home, are you?" I ask in a small voice.

"No, I am not. I knew all along, as you did, that this was how they were going to react." My uncle learns forward in his chair. "Kim, I want you to consider this very carefully. They will be very angry when you return. They might be less angry if you go home now."

"I'm in enough trouble as it is," I say bitterly. "Might as well go all the way."

"Alright. It's your decision. I trust that you're old enough to know what you're doing. I'll try to talk them around."

"Thanks, Uncle Brown," I say, getting up.

"You're welcome, kiddo," he responds. "You'd better get to class."

* * *

I'm late anyway. As I enter the room holding my guitar (which is difficult when I'm on crutches), I hear Tess say, "Shows how much effort _she _puts into this class." I ignore her, but as I pass by her chair, I trip over her guitar case. "Klutz," she whispers to me.

I sit down shakily and get out my guitar. When I look up, Nate is watching me while everyone works individually on whatever it is that he assigned for the day. Nate walks over to me, holding a packet of music. He drops it on my music stand and sits down in the empty chair next to me.

"Here's your music for the week," he says casually, but I can see that he's searching my face for emotions.

"Thanks," I return. I notice that my music is different from everyone else's. "Is this more difficult?"

"Yeah, I figured I might as well give it to you now. No point in working on the easy stuff," he replies. He hesitates for a moment, but he asks, "What did your parents want?"

"They want me to go back to California," I say, looking down at my guitar. I absently play with the strings.

"But you're staying," Nate comments.

"Yes, I'm staying," I say. I glance at Nate, who is staring at me as if he's seeing me for the first time. "What? Why are you looking at me like that, Nate?" My voice comes out as a whisper.

"I don't know," he breathes out.

A shiver runs down my spine at his answer. _Stop it, Kim,_ says my rational mind. But another voice, which sounds an awful lot like Shane, says, _you like him_.

"Nate!"

Both of our heads turn to look at Tess, who is pouting and asking, "Nate, this is too easy. Can I have something harder?"

Nate immediately responds. "Why don't you play these for me and then I'll see if you can handle some harder material."

He gets up and walks over to Tess, who begins to play through the music. Everyone listens for a few minutes before Nate reminds us to practice. As I begin playing the first piece of music in front of me, I admit to myself that Tess is pretty good at guitar. I'm not entirely sure why I'm so determined to be better than Tess, but I start practicing with renewed fervor.

After class, Nate hands Tess a packet of music – the same packet he gave to me. I start heading out since he's already given me the music. But he catches my arm as I'm walking through the door. Tess glares at me and bumps into me as she leaves.

"Why were you leaving?" Nate asks. He picks up a few papers on his music stand and puts them in a folder. He walks around the classroom, straightening chairs and music stands.

I stand by the door awkwardly, leaning on my crutches, and reply, "You already gave me the music. That's why you wanted me to stay, right?"

Nate turns to me in bewilderment. The confusion on his face shows only for a second before he schools his expression back to a smile. "Yes, of course. The music." His gaze drifts down to the guitar case in my hand. "I was, uh, hoping that you might play some of it for me. So – so I can, um, help you with it."

I have a feeling he made that up on the spot. Nevertheless, I smile at the idea that he wants to spend time with me.

"I'd love to, Nate, but I have singing with Uncle Brown in about –" I glance at my watch "– right now."

"Oh, sorry," he apologizes, a blush forming on his cheeks. "Well, you should go then." But as he walks towards me, I'm rooted to my spot. I have a sudden flashback of that moment in the kitchen. Nate stops in front of me and reaches down to take a hold of my guitar case. "I'll hold onto this so you don't have to go by your cabin."

The feeling of Nate's hand over mine makes it hard for me to let go. But I do.

"Thank you," I say before spinning around and hobbling as fast as I can on my crutches to Brown's classroom.

"Nice of you to join us," Brown says to me when I step through the door. He gives me an encouraging nod, though, so I know it's mostly because he has to be fair – he has to treat me as he would treat any other camper.

"Sorry. Crutches," I offer as a weak excuse.

Tess laughs in the front row. Her tag-alongs, Lisa and Sandy, giggle with her. "More like flirting with Nate Simons," she says with a mean smirk.

* * *

"Flirting?" Caitlyn asks at lunch. So far, only the three of us girls are at the table, and for that I'm grateful. Caitlyn and Mitchie managed to hold in their questions during Brown's class, but I guess their curiosity won't let them forget.

"Tess exaggerated," I say, sighing. I start eating the food that Mitchie carried over for me from the lunch line. "I did stay behind with Nate, but we weren't flirting. He just wanted to help me with some music. But I had to go to singing, so we only talked for a few minutes."

"So why did Tess say that?" Mitchie asks.

"I don't know. Maybe because she wants to embarrass me. I think she's after Nate since she couldn't get Shane," I explain. I stab at my food angrily. "Why can't she just leave him alone? It's obvious he's not interested. He's just too nice to say anything to her about it."

"Why is Kim mutilating her food?" Shane asks as he sits down next to his girlfriend.

I don't answer. I just keep spearing pieces of sausage with my fork and ripping them apart with my knife. I can't really say why I'm so irritated. Or maybe I just don't want to admit to myself that I really like Nate and that I wish he had been flirting with me like Tess said.

"Tess wants Nate," Mitchie replies. It seems to be all the explanation that Shane needs because he nods in agreement and gives me the I-told-you-so look.

"Don't say it, Shane," I grumble as I begin to lacerate a potato.

"Why did that potato do to you?" I hear Jason inquire. He sits down across from me.

"A lot," I shoot back.

From the corner of my eye, I see Nate take a seat next to me and put my guitar case on the floor beside him. Seeing him, I'm immediately reminded of why I am angry and I start cutting up my salad.

"Woah, stop that," Nate orders. His hands go over mine to still my movement. And just like that, my annoyance and irritation disappear. I put down my fork and knife with a sigh, and Nate removes his hands. I look at my destroyed lunch. I can't believe I did that. I admit to myself with a bit of shame that I acted like a spoiled child.

"Here, have some of mine," Nate offers and he pushes his tray over so that it's right in between us. As I start picking at his food (with my fingers – I don't trust myself with a fork and knife right now), Nate asks me what's bothering me.

"Tess," I reply. "She just – urgh!"

I prop my elbows on the table and throw my face into my hands.

"Tess is just being her usual irritating self," Caitlyn says and I'm thankful that she doesn't explain any further. It would be embarrassing for Nate to find out it was about him.

Nate puts his arm around my shoulders and says quietly, "Kim, ignore her. Just don't listen to her. Whatever she said, it's not worth getting this worked up over."

"Thanks, Nate," I answer. I lift my head to look at him. "You must think I'm so childish with the way I reacted."

He laughs. "We all need to vent our anger somehow. If mutilating your lunch 'till it's unrecognizable is your form of venting, then go ahead."

"I'm confused. What happened?" Jason asks, completely lost.

Our whole table laughs. It's so like Jason to not pay any attention to what's going on around him.

"Don't worry about it, Jase," Caitlyn says to him. He just shrugs. That's the best thing about Jason. If you don't want to tell him something, he lets it go right away. He doesn't pry.

"Anyone up for a swim after hip-hop?" Shane asks randomly.

"Sure," Mitchie says enthusiastically. Her agreement is echoed by Caitlyn and Jason. Nate watches me, waiting for my answer.

"I wish I could, Shane, but I can't swim with this foot. Maybe next week," I say sadly.

"Sorry, Kim, I forgot," my cousin apologizes. "We can all wait until next week –"

"No, go ahead. I don't want to ruin your fun."

"Then at least come hang out with us," Mitchie urges.

I nod. After all, it's not like I have anything better to do.

"We'll sit on the docks," Nate speaks for us both.

"It's okay, Nate. You can swim, too," I offer. I don't want to be the reason that he doesn't have fun.

"But I don't feel like it today. Maybe next week," he says, grinning.

* * *

Every night that week, I hear the same music. It seems that the guitarist has finally settled on this piece. I find that every evening, I wait for the music to start. I fall asleep listening to the accompaniment.

True to his word, Nate has been helping me with my guitar material. Every day after lunch (when I would normally go to hip-hop), we sit down in Lakeside cabin and I practice. Whenever I get stuck, Nate helps me with the fingering or rhythm or whatever else I need help with. Otherwise, he just sits there next to me, watching.

Of course, sometimes we get distracted from guitar. We've managed to cover almost every topic about our lives during this one week. Our conversations vary from music to movies, from school to hobbies, from family to friends, and everything in between. We usually end up staying holed up in Lakeside until dinner. Shane has affectionately given us the nickname "hermits." Every day at dinner, my cousin greets us with "Well, look, the hermits have come out of their burrow." At least _he _thinks it's funny.

One not so pleasant aspect of this week has been that Tess hates me. Every time I walk past her, she either hisses something cruel to me or tries to trip me. I've come to expect this now, so it doesn't bother me anymore. I do somehow manage to trip more often than not. I blame my natural clumsiness.

On Friday evening, I visit the nurse, who deems my ankle alright. I return the crutches. I still have to keep my ankle wrapped and I can't dance for a few more days, but at least I can finally walk again.

It's finally Saturday. All week, I've been looking forward to this day. Saturday means a jam. Since Connect 3 wasn't able to perform last weekend due to a missing member, they're performing today.

Still, I have to wait until the late afternoon to hear them. And at eight o'clock in the morning, we all have to pile into three buses and be carted off somewhere secret. On the bus, Mitchie and Shane are sitting next to each other, and Caitlyn and Jason are sitting together. I take the empty seat behind Jason and lean my head against the window. I'm so exhausted. Last night I stayed up until almost one o'clock in the morning, waiting to hear the guitar music. But it never came.

Nate plops down into the seat next to me. He hands me a piece of toast, knowing that I never made it to breakfast. I eat it silently and then fall asleep on Nate's shoulder.

* * *

"Should we wake them up?"

"We don't really have a choice. We've arrived."

"They'd probably rather sleep."

"No one would choose sleep over an amusement park."

"No one asked you, Jason!"

"I'm just amazed that they were able to sleep with all the noise."

"They're so adorable…"

I open my eyes groggily. I see my friends leaning over the back of their seats to look at us. The bus is almost empty. The last few campers are getting out now.

My head is resting on Nate's shoulder. His left arm is around me and his head lies on top of my mine. His other hand is over mine, which is on his thigh. As my body starts to wake up, I feel it start to tingle. Especially the hand on Nate's leg and the place where his arm rests.

I look over at my friends. Mitchie and Caitlyn both have expressions that show they're trying not to squeal. Jason is grinning at me like an idiot. And Shane, he's smirking at me. He speaks.

"Now you can't deny it. You like him!"

"Shh! He might wake up," I say warningly.

Right on cue, Nate's head shifts and I freeze. He finally wakes up completely and lifts his head off mine. I remove my own head from his shoulder and pull my hand away from his thigh. Suddenly, we're both sitting up straight with our hands off each other.

I'm blushing furiously and when I glance at Nate, he's scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. Shane and Jason burst out laughing.

"Smooth, Nathaniel, very smooth," Shane laughs.

Nate looks at me sheepishly. "Sorry."

"No problem," I say, although I'm not sure why he's apologizing.

"Come on, Kim. Let's ditch these crazy boys and have some fun!" Mitchie says and I climb past Nate to get off. Mitchie and Caitlyn immediately drag me onto the first roller coaster we find.

"He so likes you back," Mitchie giggles.

"He's my friend, Mitch," I argue.

"But did you see the way he was all wrapped up in you?" asks Caitlyn as we sit down on the ride.

"Whatever, guys," I say.

"What do you mean? He likes you, too, Kim! You should do something about it!"

"No, I won't. He has to tell me he likes me first," I say adamantly.

"But why?" Mitchie asks.

"Because I barely have any friends. I don't have any close friends apart from you guys. I won't risk that friendship. Nate's my best friend and I don't want to lose him if things don't go well."

I turn away from Mitchie and Caitlyn as the ride starts. They recognize that the conversation is over and they let the matter go.

* * *

After a few hours at the amusement park, we return to Camp Rock, where my uncle immediately takes me aside.

"I've been talking to your parents for the last few days. They realize that you're not going to voluntarily go back to California and I'm not going to force you. They have agreed to let you stay here for the rest of the summer."

I start to smile, but my uncle continues.

"Of course, you will be facing serious consequences when you return. They are selling your keyboard and you will not be in choir next year at school."

"They can't do that!" I exclaim. "Why would they let me stay at a music camp and then take away my music?"

"Apparently, they feel that your music has only encouraged rebellion and so on," my uncle says in an annoyed tone. "They have also declared that you will get a job when you go back and that they will not be paying for your college education."

"What?!"

"I know, kiddo. You still have a choice. Either you lose all that or you leave Camp Rock." Uncle Brown wraps an arm around me as I begin to cry.

"How can they be so unreasonable? I love my music. I live for it! Why can't they see that?"

"I don't know what to say, Kimmie," Uncle Brown says. "I broke with my sister but not my parents."

"Just-just give me a few hours to think," I plead as I pull away from his embrace.

"Sure, Kimmie," he answers understandingly.

As soon as he's walked away to his office, I'm surrounded by my best friends. I sob out the word "parents" and Shane pulls me into a much-needed hug.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Thank you for all your wonderful comments! They make me want to continue writing!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own _Camp Rock _or the Jonas Brothers song used in this chapter._

* * *

_**Chapter Six: Hold On, It's Brown's Kingdom!**_

The campers cheer loudly as Connect 3 walks on stage. I clap half-heartedly from where I am in the front row, sandwiched between Mitchie and Caitlyn. My friends haven't left my side since my breakdown earlier today. My eyes are dry now, but I'm still lost as to what I should do.

"Hey, guys," Shane starts. "I know you're all hoping for a new song, but today we decided to play one of our older ones. So here we go."

The boys launch into their song "Hold On."

_We don't have time left to regret (hold on)_

_It will take more than common sense (hold on)_

_So stop your wondering, take a stand (hold on)_

_Cause there's more to life than just to live (hold on)_

_Cause an empty room can be so loud_

_There's too many tears to drown them out_

_Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on_

Shane winks at me and I know they chose this song for me. It's their way of telling me what they think I should do about my parents. I love all three of them for being here for me. This is exactly what I need: a reminder of how important my music is and how much I'm willing to sacrifice for it.

_A single smile, a helping hand (hold on)_

_It's not that hard to be a friend (hold on)_

_So don't give up, stand 'til the end (hold on)_

_Cause there's more to life than just to live (hold on)_

_Cause an empty room can be so loud_

_There's too many tears to drown them out_

_Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on_

_When you love someone and they break your heart_

_Don't give up on love, have faith, restart_

_Just hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on_

I see Jason grinning down at Caitlyn and I smile for the first time since Uncle Brown's news. Nate has his eyes closed and he sways just the smallest bit with the music. I can see that he's lost himself in the music. I know how that feels.

For the first time since they started playing, I really listen to Nate. I hear his voice meld perfectly with the other boys'. They really are "connected," as a band and as best friends. It's the first time I've heard Nate sing live. I suddenly realize how different it is from listening to a recording. I love his voice. It makes me feel like he's singing to me, which, in this case, I suppose he is.

_When it falls apart, and you're feeling lost_

_All your hope is gone_

_Don't forget to hold on_

_Hold on_

_Cause an empty room can be so loud_

_There's too many tears to drown them out_

_Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on_

_When you love someone and they break your heart_

_Don't give up on love, have faith, restart_

_Just hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on_

When they finish, I cheer as loudly as everyone else. Shane jumps off the stage and sits down with us. Nate and Jason put away their guitars before also joining us.

"You alright?" Nate asks, stretching out his legs in front of him. My eyes unconsciously follow the length of those legs in very, very tight jeans. I swallow and force my gaze back to Nate's face.

"Yeah, thanks to you," I answer with a smile.

Nate blushes slightly. "We just want you to know that whatever your decision is, we will support it and we'll all still be your friends even if you're in California."

"But you think I should stay, right?" I ask. "The song you chose seemed to be telling me to not give in to my parents."

"Yeah, I guess," he replies quietly as Tess begins her song. "But, like I said, I'm behind you no matter what you choose."

"Thanks," I say as I turn to watch Tess. I see her glance at Nate more than once (in other words, a _lot_) during the performance. She also looks at me once with venom in her eyes. I don't need this right now, not on top of everything else. I hang my head and pull my legs to my chest, burying my face in my knees. I feel Nate throw his arm around my shoulders and I lean into him, needing the feeling of another person close to me. I hear Tess stumble on a word for a second and I know she's noticed our closeness. Is it strange for me to wish that her fears are grounded? Is it strange for me to wish that Nate feels something for me that is more than friendship?

* * *

"I agree with the boys. Stay at camp. You can find another way to pay for college," Mitchie says.

"I'll pay for college if you need help," Shane volunteers.

"I already owe you money for Camp Rock," I remind my cousin. "And I won't take any charity."

"But there are plenty of scholarships available. Or you could do a work-study program. Or take student loans," Mitchie points out. "And your parents are making you work during the school year."

"Guys, college is not the main concern right now. I don't even know if I'll go to college. I'm not the best student and I have no idea where I would want to go," I inform them. "The major issue here is that my parents will take away my music."

"Kim," Jason interjects. "Your parents might take away choir and your piano, but it would only be for a year. Then you'll graduate and turn eighteen a month later, and then they can't stop you."

"They can't take away your music, anyway, not really. They can force you to stop playing piano, but they can't get rid of your voice. You can always keep singing," Caitlyn adds.

I smile at my friends. We're sitting at our favorite spot by the lake, next to the canoes. Shane and Mitchie are cuddled up together, leaning back against a canoe. Jason is sitting on another canoe with Caitlyn sitting on the ground between his legs. Nate is spread out on the ground. He's staring up at the stars silently. And I'm sitting next to him with my legs crossed.

I start breaking a twig into a hundred pieces. I sigh loudly. I know my friends are right, but they're not the ones who will have to deal with my parents for a year.

Nate's hand comes up to rest on my leg. Heat spreads from that spot on my thigh to the rest of my body. I look at Nate, thankful that it's dark so he can't see my reddened cheeks.

"Stay," is all he says.

It's enough to convince me.

* * *

Uncle Brown has informed my parents that I'm staying. Apparently there was a lot of over-the-phone shouting coming from his office. Shane told me this morning at breakfast that he was woken up by it. However, my parents have signed the necessary papers that allow me to legally attend Camp Rock. So I'm happy. And my friends have told me to not think about it for the next month.

I am determined to enjoy the day. It's the second Games Day. Today we have water games. I'm not able to participate in the water fight, but I am in the canoe race. With Tess. Yay.

I tie my red bandana around my head as I wait for the yellow team (our opponents) to choose their two players for the event. My team picked Tess because she insisted and me because I haven't done anything useful for the team yet.

We start off well. We count our strokes so they match up (we are each paddling on a different side). So we're well ahead of Lola and Ella on the yellow team. Until Tess stops counting and starts talking.

"You're finally doing some good for the team, Lewis," she says arrogantly. "Thank God I'm here to pick up your slack."

Like I said, I am determined to have fun today and Tess is not going to ruin it for me. I shake my head at her back and don't respond.

"You didn't help last Sunday and you're not doing the water fight today either. Twisted ankle," she scoffs. I'm getting a little irritated but I promised myself I'd have a good day, so I grit my teeth and attempt to ignore her. Not so easy. Humans have a strange fascination with listening to all the bad things their peers say about them. It's called curiosity. "I bet you faked it in the woods so Nate would carry you out. You're so desperate for his attention. It's pathetic what a girl will do to be noticed by the guy she's crushing on."

That's it! It's one thing to say I'm not contributing because it's true; I'm not. But it's a whole other thing for Tess to say I'm _faking _and _lying_. For a guy, no less!

"Shut up!" I hiss at her back. "I hobbled around the woods on that foot for almost _four hours_, so don't you dare tell me that I'm pretending! And it's _you_ who are desperate for Nate's attention. That's why you try to hard in guitar. It's why you dress like a slut every time you perform. It's why you hated the fact that Nate had his arm around me last night!"

Our paddling is off pattern now and Ella and Lola might very well be catching up. I have no idea. I can't be bothered to look.

"Oh, I'm sure he was just trying to make you feel better. After all, he's a nice guy. But he needs a girl with confidence, not someone who feels so insecure about herself that she cries every time something remotely bad happens."

I just know that Tess is smirking. She's not concentrated on the race now either. While my paddling has sped up, hers has slowed down. We're not going in a straight line. I don't care.

I use my paddle to spray Tess with water. She gasps loudly and stops paddling. "You know nothing about my life! You've got it so easy you don't know what struggle even is!" I spray her again and she shrieks. Out boat is standing still, neither of us caring about the race.

"Bitch!" Tess yells as she turns around in the canoe.

"Why do you hate me, Tyler? I never did anything to you!" I shout back, spraying her again.

Tess doesn't answer with words. Instead, she slaps me. I gape at her.

"You did not just slap me, Tyler."

She smirks. "Looks like I did, Lewis."

In retaliation, I shove her out of the canoe. As we're somewhere near the middle of the lake, she's got a long way to go until she reaches the shore.

"Have fun swimming back," I say to her when she surfaces. I grab her paddle and attempt to row back. The race is long over. The yellow team won and everyone is standing back at the shore yelling at us to get back. That's exactly what I intend to do.

Until Tess tips over the canoe.

I reach the surface, spitting out water.

"What the hell was that?"

"Revenge," Tess says as she begins to swim back to shore. I follow a little slower. My ankle feels strange in the water. It's a bit harder to kick with my injured foot because of the wrap around it. But at least I can still swim.

Upon reaching the shore, I find Mitchie and Caitlyn with a towel for me. Shane and Jason are monitoring the water fight, but the girls don't have an event right now. Thank God. I don't know what I'd do without them.

I gratefully take the towel and wrap it around myself. I'm amazed that the bandana hasn't come off my head. But it's soaked, like the rest of me. Fortunately, I didn't wear a white shirt.

I see Tess, also in a towel, complaining to Lisa and Sandy, who nod in sympathy.

Nate walks over to me with a fresh bandage for my foot. The old one isn't stiff enough to support my ankle anymore since it got wet. I don't know how Nate thinks of everything.

I sit down on the dock and begin to take off my shoes and socks. I reach for my ankle but I'm beaten to it. Nate unwraps my ankle, saying, "You know I don't know how to wrap it, but I want to help somehow."

He's so sweet. I could kiss him. But I don't, obviously.

I let him remove the old binding and I wrap up my ankle again myself. Nate pulls me up into a standing position right as Uncle Brown arrives, Dee in tow.

"What is going on here? Dee just informed me that the red team stopped racing," he says, confused and angry. "Who was racing for the red team?"

Tess steps forward bravely (hah!). "I was."

"And who else?"

I sigh and speak up. "I was."

He looks incredibly surprised upon seeing me. Maybe it's because I'm soaking wet and barefoot.

"Well, Kimberly, Tess, I'm going to have to ask you to come to my office immediately after you've changed into some clean clothes. And one of you will have to bring that canoe back to shore."

I let out a mental groan. The canoe. Duh. How could I forget it out there?

"Kim will have to get it. She was the last one in it and she's the one who left it there," Tess proclaims.

I can see Uncle Brown hesitating with a response. He doesn't want to seem like he's playing favorites, but he also doesn't want me to swim anymore with my ankle.

"As far as I'm concerned you _both_ left it there," he finally says. "Now, I don't care who gets it. I just want it back."

He smartly removes himself from the situation. As he leaves, I see Shane and Jason returned with the orange and green teams. Great, more spectators for this argument.

"Tess, you're the one who started the whole incident, so _you_ can go get it," I say as I pull off my soaking wet sweater.

"But Kim, you pushed me out of the canoe," Tess returns with mock sweetness.

"Kim shouldn't have to. She's got an injured ankle," Caitlyn argues on my behalf.

Did she have to say that? Tess thinks I'm faking anyway.

"But Kim hasn't helped this team at all," Tess says. "She should try to be more useful, like me."

I raise my eyebrows. "Well, Tess, since you love being _useful_, why don't you get it?"

"Lewis, if I –"

"Stop it. Both of you," Nate commands from beside me. "Go get changed. Go receive your punishments from Brown. I will get the canoe."

Nate starts walking to his cabin, presumably to put on his swimsuit. As he passed by Tess, she says sweetly, "Oh, thank you, Nate!"

"I'm not doing it for _you_," he says and he walks off, leaving behind a very disgruntled Tess.

My face heats up. The way he said that – it sounded like he's doing it for _me._ Not just because he's such a good guy.

Mitchie and Caitlyn nudge me with silly grins on their faces, and they pull me to Lakeside cabin. I strip out of my wet clothes and pull on the clean ones that Mitchie tosses to me from my dresser.

"That was so sweet of Nate, wasn't it?" Mitchie squeals.

"Yeah, I guess," I say, trying to be casual about it.

Mitchie gives me a look that says I suck as an actress. Maybe I should take drama in school.

"What was up with quitting in the middle of the race?" Caitlyn asks.

"Tess and I got into a fight," I answer.

"Over what?"

"Everything. She wants Nate. She accused me of faking a hurt ankle so Nate would pay attention to me. Blah, blah, blah." I shrug. "I have to go hear Brown's punishment."

I leave the girls in the cabin and head to Brown's office. I pass by the lake shore where all the campers are watching Nate get the canoe. He's just coming back up the shore, pulling the canoe behind him. I stop in my tracks.

Curly hair wet and dripping – _all_ of Nate wet and dripping – he looks _hot_. Gorgeous. Like a god. _Alright, maybe that's a bit extreme_, I tell myself. But when I watch Nate lift the canoe up to the dock, muscles taut and strong, I take it back. Nate looks like a Greek god. Like Adonis or Apollo or whichever one that really hot one was. Especially when he sees me and walks towards me with a warm smile. I can't breathe. Clad only in a pair of red swim trunks, Nate's chest and arms glisten with lake water. Occasionally, a droplet of water falls from his hair to his face, tracing a path down his cheek and neck, down to his chest and disappearing into the line of his shorts. He has never looked so good.

"Hey, Kim," he says easily with a smile.

I can only nod.

"Did Brown dish out a punishment yet?"

I shake my head.

He starts to realize that this is awkward. He runs a hand through his hair, sending drops of water flying around him.

"So, uh, I'll see you at, uh, dinner?" he asks.

I nod.

"Well, I'll, uh, let you go, then. Yeah."

Nate walks away back to his cabin and I slowly force myself to move in the direction of Brown's office. I feel as if it takes me ages to get there, but I'm finally sitting in a chair next to Tess and across the desk from my uncle.

"Girls, you know I hate to be uncool. But if you can't take this seriously, then there are consequences. I know that this race may not mean anything to you, but you should think of your teammates, who were counting on you. I don't know who started it, but you are both to blame. So," he says, leaning back in his chair, "Tess, you will be doing the trash rounds for a week."

"What?! That's disgusting!" Tess shrieks.

"It's just collecting the trash bags from all the cabins and taking them to the dumpster behind the cafeteria," Brown explains.

"I won't do it," she fights.

"You will do it, or you will leave Camp Rock," Brown says. "This is my kingdom, Tess, and I am the king. And if my subjects are unruly, then they are banished."

Tess sits back with a growl of frustration.

"As for you, Kim," Uncle Brown says. "You will sweep the floors of every classroom and mop the cafeteria and kitchen floors. We're in need of a thorough cleaning. You start tomorrow."

* * *

Somehow my team manages to win the water fight. It's hard to watch because I would love to be out there, shooting water at the other team with super soakers. But I can't run, so I'd be out almost right away.

But in the end I can't be too disappointed because after dinner, Shane and Jason drag us outside by the lake and hand us all water guns. It turns into a battle of the sexes as Mitchie, Caitlyn, and I team up against the boys. We're winning until Shane drops his super soaker and throws Mitchie into the lake. But then Caitlyn and I push him in, too, so we're even.

We're all still laughing when we enter our cabin. We change into our pajamas and get ready for bed.

"We should do that more often," Mitchie laughs, pulling on her pajamas.

"Do what? Have water fights?" Caitlyn asks, walking into the bathroom to brush her teeth.

"Just have fun together," Mitchie clarifies, falling onto her bed.

I reach into my bag to grab my hairbrush. My hand gets a hold of my cell phone instead. I pull it out and stare at it.

Should I turn it on? It's not likely that my parents will call anymore. And maybe one of my siblings wants to talk to me – not likely, but possible. And I should call Laura some time soon. Eventually, I turn it on and place it on my bedside table.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Once again, thank you for the reviews! I remembered a review from a while ago that asked for more Caitlyn and Jason. I have to admit that I've kind of been neglecting them as a pairing and as characters, so I hope that this chapter satisfied you. I'll try not to forget them anymore! And I don't know if anyone has figured out the pattern in the titles of the chapters..._

_A/N 2: I went back and edited out some of the song. I didn't realize that it would take so much space and I felt that it was a bit distracting. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own _Camp Rock_ or the song "We're Dancing" by P.Y.T. from the movie _Center Stage.

* * *

_**Chapter Seven: Mop Me off My Feet**_

We have a good laugh at breakfast as we watch Tess carry garbage bags past the window and around the corner to the dumpster. Personally, I think my punishment is much worse than hers. I got up at six this morning to clean Brown's classroom. I swept the floor (either Camp Rock doesn't have a vacuum or Brown doesn't want to make it easy for me), washed the windows, and even had to wipe down the chairs and music stands. And then I had to put everything back where it belongs. Uncle Brown had better keep that room clean now.

My arms ache from all that scrubbing, but I've got guitar next _and_ I have to set up the mess hall for lunch today _and_ do the dishes after dinner. So basically, I don't get a break at all for the day.

I snap out of my thoughts when I see Shane's hand in the corner of my eye. I slap it away from my bacon.

"I'm eating that!"

"No, you're not. You're just sitting there staring at it," my cousin argues.

I grab the bacon and stuff it in my mouth.

"There."

Shane pouts. "Fine, be mean, Kimmie." He turns to his girlfriend. "Mitchie! I'm still hungry!" he whines. What a little kid.

Mitchie's too nice. She hands him a piece of toast. "Why don't you get more food from the line?"

"I don't want to get up," Shane responds, happily chewing on his toast.

"You're so lazy," she shoots back at him, but she grins.

"I'm Shane Gray, for crying out loud," he defends himself, imitating the Shane that he used to be before last summer. He glances at his watch. "And I'm about to be late for my first class."

We finally look around and realize that almost everyone is gone. Shane runs out immediately and Mitchie and Caitlyn follow with Jason to their advanced guitar class. Nate and I put away our trays (and Shane's because he forgot – aren't we nice?) and speed walk to guitar. We're a minute late.

"Tardy," Tess sings at me in a whisper as I pass her chair. I ignore her. I refuse to get riled up again. That didn't turn out too well last time.

"Alright, everyone, I'm going to hand out some new music and I'll walk around to see how you're doing. Don't forget to warm up. Play through a few scales first," Nate says. I watch him grab a stack of music while everyone begins to play scales. I reach down for my guitar and quickly pull my hand back when I realize that I don't have it. I don't know what to do. I'm not sure whether to ask to leave to get it from my cabin or to sit here and wait for Nate to notice. I settle for the second option.

I sit back in my chair and wait for Nate to bring me my music. He passes out sheet music to everyone but me and Tess. Then he goes back to his filing cabinet and grabs two sets of music for us. He drops one on Tess's music stand and another on mine. He doesn't really look at me and he's about to walk away when I speak up.

"Nate!"

He stops and turns around with a smile. "Yeah?"

"Um, well, I'm kind of embarrassed to admit this, but…this morning I had to clean Brown's classroom and I went straight to breakfast and then straight here –"

Nate cuts off my rambling. "Kim. Your point?"

"I forgot my guitar!" I finally spit out, blushing furiously.

And of course Tess hears that and has to put in her two cents.

"You're such a joke, Lewis," she laughs. "Sprained ankle? Late to class? Tipped-over canoe? Now this? Are we supposed to take you seriously?"

Tess's laughing eyes and mocking smile push me over the edge. I jump out of my seat and run out of the room. As I pass by, I hear music stands hitting the floor.

As soon as the classroom door slams shut behind me, I burst into tears. God, I'm so clumsy. Even through the door, I can hear the laughter of Tess and her minions (as well as some other campers, I'm sure). I plop down onto the stairs, too tired and miserable to care that Tess could just follow me and attack me again.

I bury my face in my knees. Why am I so emotional? Why do I have to feel so upset by what Tess said? Why must I be so weak?

"Everyone, shut up!"

My head snaps up when I hear Nate's command and his carefully controlled anger. The laughter behind the door abruptly ceases. I stand up and step towards the classroom with the intention of eavesdropping to see what's going on.

But then the door slams open and I barely catch a glimpse of Nate's harassed expression because everything goes black.

* * *

When I come to, the first thing I see is Nate leaning over me. My head throbs and I touch the side of my head gingerly.

"What happened?" I ask, confused and a little out of it.

"You got hit – uh, I hit you with the door," he admits sheepishly.

I start laughing suddenly. I don't know why. Maybe because I was so upset and angry and now I just need to laugh.

Nate gives me a look that lets me know that he's questioning my sanity. But then he, too, starts to laugh. Soon we're both sitting back on the stairs, laughing as hard as those hyenas in _Lion King_.

When we finally calm down, I ask, "How long was I out?"

"Not long. Just a few minutes," Nate answers, still letting out the occasional chuckle. Suddenly, he becomes serious. "Are you alright?"

I nod. "Yeah. I mean, I'll probably have a bump on my head but I'll survive."

Nate still looks concerned. "I'm glad to hear it, but I was talking about the way you ran out of class."

"Oh." I really don't want to talk about that. I attempt to put on a cheery smile. "Don't worry about it, Nate. Tess is a bitch and I need to learn to put up with it. I overreacted when it was no big deal. I let her get to me and I shouldn't have. I'm fine."

Nate doesn't look like he completely believes me (let's not forget how horrible I am at acting), but he lets it go with a gentle smile.

And really, I'm okay now. I seem to overreact to a lot of things recently (like the idea of Shane forcing his friends to like me). I guess I am just stressed out about my parents and the fact that this happiness won't last. And unfortunately, there's nothing I can do about it anymore. I made my choice and now I have to stick by it.

I grab the hand that Nate offers to me and he pulls me up. He starts to reach for the door, but he stops and turns to me.

"You okay to come back in?" he asks hesitantly.

"I guess, although I still don't have a guitar," I remind him, letting out a laugh.

Nate grins. "That's okay. You can use mine."

I follow him into the room and find my seat. Everyone speaks in hushed tones and even Tess doesn't say anything to me. Nate quickly resumes his role as teacher.

"I believe I asked you to work on this music for the duration of class," he comments off-handedly as he grabs his guitar. All of the campers immediately return to their practicing. That's how Nate is. He tells you to do something and you do it. Nice quality to have in a situation like this.

As he hands me his guitar, I suddenly remember that this is Nate Simons. I'm supposed to play _Nate Simons's_ guitar? What if I damage it or dirty it or –

"Don't be afraid to touch it, Kim," Nate says, a reassuring smile on his face. Damn, he can read my mind. "It's just a guitar."

I take the instrument, but I give Nate an incredulous look. "This is not _just a guitar_. This is _your_ guitar."

Nate laughs and sits down next to me. "And I'm just Nate. I had hoped you'd forget about the celebrity status and all that by now."

"Kind of hard to forget sometimes," I say with a smile, although it usually doesn't cross my mind that he's famous at all.

* * *

On Wednesday, I get a call on my cell phone. It's around ten at night and I'm getting ready for bed when the familiar "Play My Music" ringtone starts playing. At first I just stare at my cell phone, completely shocked that someone is actually calling me. Then Caitlyn picks it up and throws it at me. Snapping back to reality, I catch the phone and answer.

"Hello?"

"Kimmie? It's Laura."

I smile to myself. At least Laura still bothers to call. At least _she_ cares about me even if my parents don't.

"Hey, Laura!"

"I hope I'm not interrupting dinner or something…" my sister trails off apologetically.

"Dinner? Laura, it's ten o'clock," I reply, checking my alarm clock.

"What? Oh. Oh! Sorry! I forgot about the time difference!" Laura exclaims.

"Don't worry about it," I say. "Why are you calling, anyway?"

"Mom and Dad," she says, adopting a serious tone of voice. "I heard about your decision. Dad came storming into the bakery when he first found out where you are and again after you decided to stay. He was furious with me for taking you to the airport and helping you get to Camp Rock. Now he refuses to let any of his children visit me. I mean, he can't really forbid Sarah and Kyle from coming since they're adults, but he's doing his best."

"I'm sorry, Laura," I say guiltily. Not only have I punished myself, I've also punished my siblings.

"It's not your fault."

"Yes, it is! If I hadn't –"

"No, Kim. It is _not_ your fault. Mom and Dad are being stupid, as usual. Whatever choices you make should not be an excuse to hurt our siblings. It's all Mom and Dad. Don't blame yourself."

"Okay," I agree half-heartedly.

"Really, Kim. Promise me you won't beat yourself about this. Maybe I shouldn't have told you, but I thought you had a right to know."

"I'm glad you told me," I reassure her, even though the knowledge has made me feel selfish about my choices. I notice Caitlyn and Mitchie are already in bed, waiting for me to finish my call. "Look, Laura, I have to go. It's curfew. Thanks for calling."

I hang up my phone and rest it on my nightstand. I throw myself onto the bed.

"This just keeps getting worse and worse."

* * *

Saturday is my last day of cleaning. I'm up early to make breakfast with Connie and Mitchie. I eat while I cook and go out to finish cleaning the hip-hop room. I sweep the floor quickly and cast a cursory glance around the classroom.

It's been good being able to dance again now that my ankle is completely healed. I had forgotten how much fun it is to have Shane as my teacher. This last week, we've started our piece for Final Jam. I think Shane's been choreographing it on the spot because he acts like he has no clue what to do next and he often forgets what he's taught us. Maybe I should ask Caitlyn to help him – she's the best dancer and Shane could use the help, especially since he's determined to make this dance better than last year's.

Heading back to the cafeteria, I notice that most of the campers are finished with breakfast. Many are already swimming in the lake or paddling out in the canoes. I spot Jason and Caitlyn sitting on a huge rock by the lake far enough away from the other campers to not be heard.

I glance towards the mess hall and see that there are still people eating. My next (and last) cleaning task is to mop the cafeteria floor. That's best done when it's empty of people. Plus Mitchie needs time after to clean up the dishes (it's her turn). So I have time.

Even though I know it's wrong, I can't help myself from slipping into the copse of trees near the lake. I circle around Jason and Caitlyn, staying hidden behind various trees, to the side of them opposite where the campers are. That way I don't have any interfering noise and there's a smaller chance of someone finding me. I stay crouched behind some bushes when I'm close enough to hear their words. I keep low so they can't see me but this also has the effect of preventing me from seeing them. Although, I suppose I don't have a right to complain since I shouldn't be doing this in the first place.

"…you performing tonight? It's pajama jam," Jason is saying.

"Yeah, I am," Caitlyn responds. "What about you?"

"No, we can't. There isn't enough space in a cabin for us to play." Despite his words, he doesn't sound annoyed or upset. But then, Jason never does.

There's silence between the two. It's heavy and awkward – even I can tell and I'm not there.

"Jase –"

"Caitlyn –"

They start together and then stop. Jason speaks again first.

"You first." He sounds a bit nervous.

"No, that's okay. You go ahead." She does too.

I'm grinning heavily. It's obvious they're about to confess their feelings. My excitement over that outweighs my guilt over witnessing something private.

"Okay…um, I just wanted to ask…you know…if –"

"Jason!"

I almost groan out loud when I hear Shane's yell. That idiotic, intrusive cousin of mine! If I wasn't hiding, I would hit him over the head!

"Yeah, Shane?" Jason asks. I've never heard him sound exasperated before today.

"Have you seen Kim anywhere?" Shane asks.

"No, we haven't seen her at all today," Caitlyn answers tightly. I don't blame her for being irritated. After all, she's probably been waiting for this for a really long time and now Shane ruins it.

"She said she had to clean my classroom, but I already checked there," Shane goes on, sounding completely oblivious that he disrupted his friends at a really bad time. "Connie sent me because the mess hall is clear of campers. Mitchie is already cleaning up the food. Kim's supposed to clean the cafeteria today."

"We know," Caitlyn responds with a resigned sigh.

"We really don't know where she is," Jason adds a little more kindly. "Maybe with Nate? It seems like she's always with Nate."

"No, she can't be. Nate's out looking for her too," Shane says. "Well, thanks anyway. Don't forget to come to the picnic."

I hear Shane's footsteps moving away and I let out a silent sigh of relief. They didn't find me yet. Although, this probably means I should get going.

I rise about half an inch before crouching down again upon hearing my name.

"Speaking of Kim…" Jason starts. Apparently he has lost his nerve to ask her out now.

"Yeah?" Caitlyn sounds disappointed but understanding.

"Kim and Nate are awfully close," Jason says. I note that his voice sounds like he's holding back a laugh.

Caitlyn, on the other hand, doesn't keep in her laughter. "I know. They're so obvious!"

I smile to myself, remembering Nate saying exactly the same thing about _them_.

"I think they're the only ones who don't know how –"

A hand claps over my mouth and I lose track of Caitlyn and Jason's conversation.

"It's okay, Kimmie. It's just me," Shane whispers quietly in my ear.

I relax instantly and I allow my cousin to pull me silently from my hiding place. He leads me a little ways away so we can talk without being heard by Caitlyn and Jason.

"Eavesdropping, Kimmie?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.

"I didn't mean to!" I protest. But when Shane simply stares at me with a knowing smirk, I confess, "Alright, I _did_ mean to. But I just want them to be together!"

"We all do, but that doesn't mean we should listen in on their conversations," he reprimands. Ha! Shane trying to be all grown up!

"Hey! You interrupted them, Shane! Who are you to scold me?" I accuse, glaring at him.

"I had a good reason. But if I had known they were talking about something important, I wouldn't have interrupted. But I didn't realize it until it was too late." Shane begins to steer me towards the mess hall, where a mop and a dirty floor await me. "So," he says conversationally. "What did they say?"

* * *

Out of all of my tasks in cleaning, mopping was the one I was least looking forward to. My socks are wet through. (Wearing my shoes would defeat the purpose of cleaning, so I am left in my socks.) My arms are getting tired of mopping and I'm bored. Everyone – and I mean _everyone_ at Camp Rock except for me – have taken a bus to a park to have a picnic. Why they can't just lay out a tablecloth on the field nearby I do not know. The only slightly positive thing about this is that I get to listen to music while I clean.

The song playing from my iPod playlist ends and another begins. "We're Dancing" from the movie _Center Stage_. I start singing along.

_When the going starts to get rough_

_And you feel like you've had enough_

_Let the music take control of your soul_

_Take a chance and do what you feel_

_You're a force they cannot live without it_

_You gotta break the chain, yeah, yeah_

_There's a passion inside_

_An inner strength that drives_

_Can't nobody take that away from you_

_It's the greatest high_

_You set the floor on fire when you come alive_

I begin to dance around the room as I mop. I use the mop as a prop. As the song goes on, I clean less and dance more. It's been so long since I've been alone long enough to really let myself go. And in a large room like this, with the tables and benches pushed to the sides, my body screams to move with the music.

_And we're dancin'_

_And it feels alright_

_I can't control my desire_

_And we're dancin'_

_And it feels alright_

_Yeah_

_And we're dancin'_

_And it feels alright_

_Can't hold me down_

_Gotta reach for the sky_

_And we're dancin'_

_And it feels alright_

_Yeah_

I spin in a half-circle. The wet floor suddenly causes me to slip. And then I'm caught by arms that dip me back while another girl in the room continues the song.

_Some people don't know the love you possess_

_They pretend what they don't understand_

_It's natural_

_You're in a world of your own_

_Ohhhhh oh_

_There's a passion inside_

_An inner strength that drives_

_Can't nobody take that away from you_

_It's the greatest high_

_You set the floor on fire when you come alive_

I look around. They're here – all of my friends – and I didn't even notice them come in. Shane and Mitchie, and Caitlyn and Jason, are by the door, taking off their shoes. Mitchie is the one singing.

And Nate has righted me onto my feet. He steps back, pulls off his shoes, and throws them towards the door.

"How – how did you guys get here?" I ask as the song begins the bridge and then the last chorus.

"Uncle Brown brought us back to help you," Shane answers, heading to the closet to get more cleaning supplies.

"But no one is supposed to help me serve my punishment –"

"Are you complaining, Kim?" Mitchie asks with a mock incredulous expression.

"Because we can leave if you want us to," Caitlyn adds.

"No! Don't!" I amend quickly. "I would love it if you all help me."

"Good," Nate says, grinning. "Because at the rate you're going, we won't be able to eat dinner tonight."

"Nice dancing," Jason comments. I can't tell if it's teasing or a genuine compliment, so I blush unknowing if it should be from modesty or embarrassment.

"Come on, guys," Shane says, emerging from the closet. "Let's help Cinderella here so she can dance with Prince Charming some more."

* * *

_A/N: So there's another chapter. I never meant to make Tess so mean...heh. Well, she's redeemed in my _Camp Rock _oneshots which feature her, so if you don't hate her, go check those out. Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think. In other words, review._


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: I know it's been a really long time. I could list a few excuses. For example, school has been taking a lot of my time and I've been sick and I've had major writer's block. But no one wants to hear those, so let's just get on with the story._

_Disclaimer: I do not own _Camp Rock, _Clue,__ or anything else recognizable in this chapter._

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_

_**Chapter Eight: Dancing Around the Clues**_

"You're really good, you know," Mitchie says. Again. She – along with my other friends – has been telling me every day how talented I am at singing and dancing. Apart from boosting my confidence, this has led to Shane demanding that I help him choreograph the dance for Final Jam. I did rope Caitlyn into helping too though, and the three of us have had a good time over the last few days since Saturday. Nate and I have temporarily canceled our private guitar lessons so that I can concentrate on helping my cousin. After all, I owe him for getting me here.

It's Thursday today and right now Mitchie, Caitlyn, and I are in Shane's hip-hop class.

"Mitch, you've said that already," I say with a blush. I'm really not used to getting this much praise.

"I know, but you need to believe it yourself," she retorts. I can't argue with that – I do need a little more faith in myself.

"Alright, guys, follow along," Shane says, turning on the music.

We stand up from the floor where we were stretching. Caitlyn and I have no trouble keeping up because we worked on this section yesterday.

Abruptly, Shane stops dancing. He turns off the music and retraces his last steps.

"What is he doing?" I hear someone whisper.

"Kimmie! Help!" my oh-so-mature cousin whines.

I laugh at Tess's incredulous look. She can't believe that I would be a good dancer. It's hard to tell who's really good in a class where we all do the same thing. Not to mention the fact that we're usually too busy watching Shane.

"Like this, Gray," I say, smiling at my cousin.

Shane plays the music and I demonstrate the steps we agreed on. I can feel the eyes on me but I am facing away from everyone so I ignore it. It has always amazed me how easy it is to dance in front of people but now hard it is to sing. Maybe it's because I'm not baring my soul as much as when I'm singing. Or maybe it's because my parents have never cared about my decision to take dance instead of gym. It's the possibility of a career in music that they hate. And it's my music that they ridicule.

I don't even notice that I've finished the number (up to the end of what we had choreographed) until I hear the applause. I straighten up and return to my spot between Mitchie and Caitlyn. I avoid looking at the people around me.

"Thanks, Kim," Shane says, a twinkle in his eyes that tells me he knows something I don't know.

He plays the song again and leads the class through it perfectly. My eyes narrow into a glare when I realize that Shane knew exactly what he was doing all along.

"Okay, good work," Shane says. "We'll go through this a few times tomorrow and then we can see about adding your voices."

I stay behind with Mitchie, Caitlyn, and Shane while the others file out and head to the mess hall for dinner.

"Well?" I demand of my cousin.

"What?" Shane asks innocently.

"You know what I'm talking about, Shane Gray! Why did you pretend to need my help?" I ask with my hands on my hips.

"I'm only trying to help," Shane begins, but I cut him off.

"Well, don't!"

"But you got through, didn't you?" he points out. "You did the dance perfectly, even in front of all those people. And it's get easier every time you perform."

"It's true," Mitchie agrees. "Singing at Final Jam last year was hard but it's been easier at every jam."

They're right. Except…

"Singing in front of people is a million times harder for me than dancing," I say.

"Then practice singing," Caitlyn suggests. "A week ago, you would never have sung in front of us and now you don't mind so much."

I don't. All week, I've been humming along with Mitchie in the kitchen while we cook and singing with Shane and Caitlyn when we work on the dance.

"I see your point, guys. I do. But I'm not going to sing at the jam this week," I say.

"Why not?" Shane asks.

"I don't have anything I've been working on that's finished, and I still haven't found my lyrics notebook," I recall. "That thing disappeared before camp even started and I've pretty much given up hope of ever seeing it again."

"Are you sure it hasn't simply been misplaced?" Mitchie asks. "It might be somewhere in our cabin."

I know it's not. I left it at the lake, and unless a bird carried it onto our front step, I doubt it's anywhere near our cabin.

"What does it look like?" Caitlyn questions. "We can look after dinner."

Reminded of food, Shane immediately forces us out of his classroom and in the direction of Connie's amazing cooking. I don't have time to respond because Jason and Nate run into us (almost literally) just then.

"How was dance today?" Jason asks, grin in place.

"Great," Caitlyn responds, launching into a description of the class.

"You guys are so slow!" Shane complains. "I want food!"

We laugh as Shane picks up Mitchie and runs off toward the mess hall.

Jason grins at us (when doesn't he?) and takes off after them, yelling, "Last one there gets thrown in the lake after dinner!"

"Hey, you got a head start! That's not fair!" Caitlyn yells after him as she, too, sprints away.

I hear Jason's response. "All's fair in love and war!"

"I don't feel any love coming from you who just _left my behind in the dust_!" she yells back.

"Hah! I won!" Jason's voice floats back to us. And then nothing. Obviously, they've both reached the cafeteria.

"Uh, well, they're loud," I comment to Nate as we stand there.

"Yeah, just a bit," he responds with a smile. He glances down the path towards the cafeteria. "Well, I, for one, don't want to be thrown into the lake."

I let out a laugh. "I'm sure Jason won't _actually _throw anyone in."

"You obviously have not seen Jason's darker side," Nate jokes. "A few years ago, he forced Shane to sing a Britney Spears song at a jam because he lost a bet. He wouldn't let Shane sleep until he'd done it."

I burst out laughing when I try to imagine my celebrity cousin performing a Britney Spears song. What a blow to his manly ego.

I snap out of my laughter when I realize I'm all alone on the path.

"Nate!"

I sprint to the cafeteria and I see Nate almost at the door.

"Nate!" I call again, hoping that he'll be nice and let me go in first. No such luck. He flashes me a grin that leaves me even more breathless than I already was from running. Then he disappears into the building. I groan to myself as I walk to the mess hall. I grumpily grab some food and plop down next to my smirking friends.

"Cheer up, Kim. It's not that bad," Shane reassures me. He's obviously heard about the race, too.

I paste a wicked smile on my face. "Yeah, at least I don't have to strut my stuff on stage to Britney Spears."

Jason, Nate, and I burst into laughter. Shane's face turns tomato-red. Mitchie and Caitlyn exchange a confused look.

"I have a feeling we missed this story," Caitlyn comments.

"Yes, please tell," Mitchie says, leaning forward eagerly.

"Mitch! You're not supposed to enjoy my humiliation!" Shane protests. "What kind of girlfriend are you?"

"One who loves you very much," she responds absent-mindedly, patting his hand as Nate retells his story (with a bit more detail).

When the laughter dies down, Caitlyn turns to me. "You know, you never answered my question."

My mind goes back to our earlier conversation and I quickly respond, "Right, my lyrics notebook…it's dark blue and it has the words 'Song Lyrics' on the cover in silver Sharpie. My name is on the inside cover."

"Hey, I've seen that!" Jason exclaims.

"Really? Where?" I ask excitedly. Maybe I'll finally get my songs back. But why would Jason have seen it?

"I have, too," Nate speaks up. "That first day, when we met you. It was on the dock next to you."

"Well, then I guess you can't help me after all," I say. Damn! I really need that notebook before Final Jam!

"Sorry, Kim," Jason says, looking guilty.

"It's okay, Jase," I reply.

Jason brightens up. "But we're all done eating now. You know what that means!"

"No!" I exclaim as Shane and Nate grab my arms from either side of me. "Guys, please don't!"

"Your pleas are in vain, Lewis!" Shane yells happily, dragging me to the docks. "Jason, would you do the honors?"

"I'd love to."

With that, Jason picks me up (still struggling) and throws me into the lake. I had been hoping that they would at least take my shoes off, but no.

I surface to the sight of my laughing friends. I swim back to the pier and haul myself up (with a little help from Nate).

"That was not funny!" I cry, my clothes and hair dripping water onto the wood below me.

"Seems pretty funny to me," Shane counters, laughing with the others.

As I tug off my shoes and sweater, I feel laughter bubbling up inside me. I can't hold it in anymore and soon I'm laughing as hard as the others. I really need to laugh more. It's rejuvenating.

I sit down on the dock. I feel something pressing against my thigh. I pull my cell phone out of my pocket and groan.

"What's wrong?" Mitchie asks, sitting down beside me.

"It's dead," I mourn.

"Sorry, Kim. I didn't realize that you had your cell phone," Jason apologizes.

"It's okay, Jase," I say, but it's not okay. Laura was supposed to call me tonight and now she can't. But I shouldn't be angry at Jason or any of the others; they didn't know. Still, I can't help but stare at the broken phone in my hand, wishing that it would magically come back to life.

A few silent moments pass. Finally, Mitchie tentatively speaks.

"Kim?"

I look up at my friends, who all look guilty. I sigh, knowing I need to put their minds at ease.

"Guys, don't worry. It's not that big of a deal." I force the words out. "It's just…Laura was supposed to call tonight…"

"You can always use my phone," Shane volunteers. "I have Laura's number in my address book. After all, she is my relative, too."

Why didn't I think of that? _Way to overreact again, Kim, _I tell myself.

"Thanks, Shane. That would be great," I say, smiling up at my cousin. "Laura said she'd call around six – her time – so that would be nine o'clock here. I'll call her just before nine."

"Why not just call now?" Shane asks.

"She's still working in the bakery and doesn't have time to talk right now," I answer, getting up from the pier. "Right now, I'm going to go change into some dry clothes."

"Sure, Kim. Sorry about that," Shane apologizes again. "Why don't you come by my cabin when you want to call Laura?"

"I will. Thanks, Shane," I say. I pick up my sweater and shoes. Caitlyn and Shane head off towards the hip-hop classroom to finish up the dance for Final Jam. Jason leaves on his own, muttering something about a birdhouse, and Mitchie heads towards the kitchen to help her mom. It's only when I start walking to Lakeside Cabin that I notice that Nate has disappeared without a word.

* * *

"Here," Shane says, tossing me his cell phone. He barely looks away from Mitchie as he listens (on her iPod) to a song she wrote and recorded a few months ago.

I catch the phone and head outside for some privacy. I quickly look up Laura's number and press the button to call.

"Hello?"

"Laura!"

"Kim? But the caller ID –"

"I'm using Shane's phone. Mine got thrown into the lake – along with the rest of me – and doesn't work anymore," I explain.

"So I shouldn't call your phone anymore?" Laura asks. I can hear dishes moving in the background.

"No. Call Shane is you want to talk," I say. "How are things over there?"

"Mom and Dad have calmed down a lot. I think they've resigned themselves to your decision. They're not happy with it, but they realize that you're not going to change your mind. I don't really know all that much, since I haven't talked to any of our siblings in the last few days and our parents won't talk to me at all," she answers. I hear a loud clatter and then a yelp.

"Are you alright?" I ask anxiously.

"Yeah, yeah," she replies. "I just dropped a pot on my foot as I was putting away the dishes."

I snort into the receiver. "I guess clumsiness is in the family. I knocked over _two_ kettles in the kitchen, sprained my ankle on a tree root, and pushed over a few music stands. And that's only the last few weeks at camp. I've been teased about it endlessly."

"By your friends?"

"No, by Tess Tyler."

"Who?"

I sigh. "Tess Tyler – T.J. Tyler's daughter. She used to run this camp. But then Connect 3 came and chose to hang out with Mitchie and Caitlyn."

"And you," Laura notes.

"Well, Shane's my cousin, so that's different. But Tess has a grudge against me because she's after Nate and he's pretty much my best friend. She hates that he spends so much time with me and none with her."

I'm near the lake by now and I lean against a tree.

"Nate? As in Nate Simons of Connect 3?" Laura questions excitedly.

"Yes," I reply, confused. "I don't get it. You know I'm friends with them all."

"Yeah, but your _best friend_? You don't want to date him or something?"

I sputter. "What? No!"

"Really? He's awfully cute. If I was your age, I'd totally be crushing on him," my sister claims.

"Laura!" I cry. I begin to head even closer to the lake.

"What? He is good-looking. And even though he seems really serious, I've heard that he's very smart and kind."

"He is – all of those things," I clarify. "But he's my friend and I only have so many of those. I'm not about to – Nate?"

"What was that, Kimmie?" Laura asks on her end.

"Shh!" I say. I keep my eyes on a curly – haired figure sitting on the pier with his guitar. He's playing the song! Or rather, the accompaniment that I heard a few weeks ago near Lakeside. He's so immersed in the music that he can't hear me approach. He's alternately humming and whisper-singing, but I can't hear the words.

"Kim! What's wrong?" I hear Laura asks.

"Nothing," I answer and I see Nate start at the sound. "I just – I have to go. I'll call you some other time."

I hang up the phone. Looking at Nate, I notice that he is now standing a few feet away, staring at me with a puzzled but worried expression.

"I've heard you before," I finally comment. "At night, playing right here by the lake."

"I didn't meant for anyone to hear," Nate answers. "That's why I was out here instead of in the cabin."

"I thought so. What were you working on?"

"Oh, um, just a song," he replies vaguely, walking past me towards the Connect 3 cabin. I smile and walk next to him.

"Well, obviously it's a secret. Maybe something for the next jam?" I suggest, hoping he'll say something more revealing.

"Not exactly," he says, opening the door.

Shane, Mitchie, Jason, and Caitlyn are all sitting in a circle, playing Clue.

"Hey Nate, Kim," Jason greets and the others echo him.

"Where did you get the game?" I ask as I hand back Shane's cell phone. "We don't have any board games in our cabin."

Jason answers, "I brought a few board games with me for my first summer at Camp Rock. This was our cabin then and I had left it here." He turns back to the game, rolling the die and moving his purple playing piece into one of the rooms. He picks up his paper. "I suspect Colonel Mustard in the ballroom with the lad pipe."

I sit down on a bed and watch as Caitlyn, who is sitting beside him, shows him one of her cards. Jason's face falls. He must have really thought he was right.

"Sorry, Jase," Caitlyn says, patting him on the back.

"Do you want us to start a new game?" Mitchie asks, directing her question to me and Nate.

"No, I'll just watch. I never was very good at Clue. I'll join you next round," I say.

I glance over at Nate. He is putting his guitar into its case, which is at the foot of the bed I'm sitting on. I infer that I'm on Nate's bed and I feel a rush of excitement at the thought.

"Same," he says to Mitchie. "I'll be right back."

With that, he disappears into the bathroom and the others continue their game. I nudge off my shoes and flop down on the bed so I'm laying down with my head on the pillow. I lay sideways so I can smell Nate on the covers and that thrill comes back to me. _Pathetic, Kim, _my inner Shane-voice says, snickering. I quickly tell it to shut up and I get more comfortable, pushing my hand under the pillow. It brushes against the headboard…and something else.

I hear the toilet flush in the bathroom and I know Nate will be out any second. But I can't help myself. I sit up, lifting the pillow away from the bed. There! Tucked between the end of the mattress and the headboard is a dark blue notebook. I pull it out just as the bathroom door opens. The front cover has the words "Song Lyrics" on it and as I open the notebook, I see my name written clearly: "Kimberly Anne Lewis."

I hear a whispered "oh no" from the direction of the bathroom but I don't want to look at Nate. Shane obviously hasn't noticed because he keeps playing. It's his turn and he says, "I suspect –"

"Nate Simons," I interrupt, still staring at my name. "In the cabin. With my notebook."

* * *

_A/N: Not much of a cliffhanger, since I think most of you guys figured it out beforehand. Next chapter will be up in a few days, so please review!_

_Oh, and I have a question I want you guys to answer for me: Which Demi Lovato song do you think Mitchie should perform at Final Jam?_


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: I'm so sorry for the ridiculously long wait. Unfortunately, I do have a life outside of fanfiction and I sometimes get caught up in it. But now I'm out for summer and I've promised myself that I will finish this story before school starts again in the fall._

_I haven't proof-read this much, so please let me know if there are mistakes!_

_A huge thank you to all of my reviewers! A special thank you to _have-a-cookie_, who has reviewed 7 out of the 8 chapters! You make me smile! And yes, I know you knew what would happen!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own _Camp Rock_, Hilary Duff's "Between You and Me," Taylor Swift's "A Place in This World," _Grease_, _Phantom of the Opera, _or anything else recognizable in this chapter. I'm (unfortunately) not making money off of any of this._

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_**Chapter Nine: Can You Explain This Masquerade?**_

"I can explain," Nate rushes to say.

"Really?" I ask, not looking up from the notebook in my hands. "Do you really have a good excuse for _stealing_ my notebook and then _lying _to me about it?"

I finally raise my head. From the corner of my eye, I can see Mitchie pushing Shane towards the door while he fights to stay in and listen. Caitlyn and Jason are already walking through the door. Jason gives me an apologetic look, one that tells me he knew where it was but didn't tell me at lunch because of Nate.

But my gaze is on Nate, who is still standing in the doorway to the bathroom. And for once, I am the one in control. In the past, Nate has been the one to be calm and cool when I act like a clumsy, stuttering fool. But it doesn't feel that great to be in command.

The outer door is shut with a loud bang. I break the silence, trying to contain my temper.

"Nate, I'm waiting for an explanation."

He takes a cautious step forward into the room and then stops. Running a hand through his hair and taking a deep breath, he begins.

"When I first found the notebook, I had every intention of returning it to its owner. I had to open it to find the name and when I did, I happened to notice the song on the first page…I know it was wrong of me, but I read it…and then I read the others. They're really good, Kim," Nate says, finally looking right into my eyes, his gaze honest and guilty at the same time.

I can't exactly blame him for reading the songs. My curiosity would be overwhelming in that type of situation, too. And I did spy on Jason and Caitlyn when I shouldn't have. But –

"Why didn't you just return it?"

"I was going to, I swear," he explains, running his hand through his curly hair again. Why does he have to do that? He always looks so earnest and perfect and – "But then I started composing music in my head to go along with the lyrics – I can't help it. It's what I _do._ And I began to put the words to melodies and _that's _what you heard me playing by the lake. And I heard you say that you couldn't write the music to match the lyrics and I wanted to help. But the longer I hid it from you, the harder it became to tell you the truth. I'm sorry, Kim. I really am."

What am I supposed to say? Should I forgive him or stay angry? Can I trust him?

I drop my head into my hands, staring down at my notebook.

"Kim?" Nate ventures to ask hesitantly. When I look up at him, I see that he has moved forward to where he's only a few feet away. I can feel tears building up in my eyes. I'm so confused! If only I knew what to do!

"Kim," Nate says again, more forcefully.

I shake my head and stand up a bit shakily, the notebook clutched tightly in my hands.

"I need time to think," I say, immediately walking out of the room and away from Nate's repentant gaze. I stumble to my cabin and into my bed, not bothering to change my clothes.

"What happened?" Caitlyn asks as she and Mitchie come bounding into the cabin.

"Yeah, you just ran past without even seeing us," Mitchie adds, sitting down on my bed.

"Sorry," I mutter into my pillow.

"Kim, what did Nate – "

"Not tonight, Mitchie," I request, dropping my notebook into the bag beside my bed and pulling the covers over my head.

* * *

The next morning, I eat my breakfast in the kitchen with Connie while she works. After I explain the situation, Mitchie and Caitlyn want to stay with me, but I urge them to spend time with the boys. Just because I'm confused doesn't mean I can be the cause of splitting them up. They were friends long before I came into the picture.

As soon as I'm done with my eggs and bacon, I begin cleaning up the kitchen (mostly for lack of anything better to do).

"You don't have to do that, Kim," Connie states as she puts away ingredients.

"I don't mind," I answer, shoving some pans into the dishwasher. My mind, however, wanders. All I can think about is Nate…Nate and my notebook. I nearly drop a dish when Nate's face flashes through my mind. That expression – so guilty and apologetic. How can I be angry when he had good intentions? Or at least, he didn't have _bad _intentions.

"Kim!"

I snap out of my daze. Connie is standing in front of me with a worried expression.

"Is everything alright?" she asks.

I paste a smile on my face. "Yeah, I just spaced out a little."

She laughs. "Well, I'd say so. You've been standing there for five minutes." I smile sheepishly. "You should go to class. You don't want to be late."

I shrug, not really caring. But then I realize I should probably be there on time. After all, it will be awkward enough for me to be in guitar class with Nate without entering late and drawing a lot of attention. I pull off my apron and hang it up on the hook by the door. I glance at the light switch beneath the hook and I'm flooded with images of Nate from that night in the kitchen. I shake my head to myself. _No, Kim, don't get carried away. Just focus on what you're doing, not on Nate._

I pick up the guitar that I had left by the door and walk quickly to the classroom. Almost everyone is already there. The only person missing is Nate, and for that I'm grateful. I can sit in the back and stay out of the spotlight. I'm sure Nate won't talk to me unless he absolutely has to.

I can see Tess talking quietly with Lisa and Sandy. She shoots snide glances at me every few minutes. I ignore her; I'm not in the mood for an argument, no matter how curious I am.

The door opens just as I'm arranging my music on the stand in front of me. I don't look up, even if I am tempted. I don't want to catch Nate's eye. That would be awkward. I hear everyone quiet down though, so I know it's Nate who came in.

He clears his throat. "Alright, we're going to continue what we were doing yesterday. Who hasn't played yet?"

We've been taking turns performing in front of the class for the last few days. Nate says it's so we get comfortable playing in front of people, even if we're not very good. Only Tess, Lisa, and I still have to play. I'm not planning on going first. Maybe he'll forget me. Actually, it'd be more likely that he skip me on purpose. Both work for me.

"Lisa can start," Tess says to Nate. I wonder why she doesn't want to go first. Normally she'd jump at the chance to be the center of attention.

But then Lisa goes up and plays a quite simple song. And it's awful. The chords aren't clear because her fingers get in the way of the other strings. And she pauses too often between some notes, making the tempo inconsistent. I cringe, along with everyone else (I think). At least she seems to be doing her best. I have to give her credit for that at least.

After she finishes, there is reluctant applause and Tess eagerly rises from her seat, holding her guitar and music. Now I see why she wanted her friend to go first. Now she'll seem amazing in comparison. Tess sits down on the stool in front of the class and begins playing something a little more difficult – the same music I've been working on. She stops about sixteen measures into it and turns to Nate.

"Nate, this is too easy for me. Could I try something harder?" she asks with a supposedly sweet smile and an arrogant tint in her eyes.

Nate shrugs. "Well, I suppose if you're truly bored with this, then sure." He reaches into a filing cabinet and searches through the sheet music there. He pulls out a folder and places it on the table next to him, flipping through the music. He suddenly stops, looking at a piece of music with a strange expression on his face. Hearing Tess begin to play a scale on her guitar, he quickly puts it aside and grabs a different sheet. Handing it to Tess, he leans against the table to listen.

I determinedly keep my gaze away from Nate. Tess sight-reads through the music pretty well…better than I would have expected anyway. Although she plays through it slowly, she only stumbles on one part. I hate to admit it, but she's good at guitar. When she finishes, she gets up to loud applause and sits down with a smirk. Lisa looks a bit intimidated, but Sandy loyally congratulates her friend.

I don't dare get up. Maybe if I stay still, Nate won't call me up.

"Kim, I think you're the last person," he says, not looking at me. He busies himself with putting away the folder of music he had taken out.

I get up shakily, forcing myself to remain calm. I've played in front of Nate, but not in front of anyone else. I take a deep breath as I sit down on the stool and set my music on the stand. I don't even get through the first measure before my fingers fumble on the strings and the pick falls out of my right hand. My face flushes and the laughter from Tess and her friends only makes me turn redder. My head hangs down and I move to get off the stool, utterly humiliated. Why can't I even play a simple song? I've practiced it with Nate for days. What is wrong with me and performing?

Before I can move an inch, however, Nate has dropped a new piece in front of me. He presses the pick into my hand and my face flushes further with the contact. He mistakes it for embarrassment and says, "Kim, you can do this. Just pretend it's you and me and we're reading through a piece. Even if you don't do it perfectly, you should be proud that you're playing something difficult. More so because it's yours."

He steps away and I can see the music in front of me. "A Place in This World." I understand why Nate called it mine. The lyrics, written carefully below the vocal line on the score, are from my notebook. I smile faintly and settle my guitar on my lap with a bit more confidence.

* * *

"How'd it go?" Mitchie asks as I walk in to singing class. She and Caitlyn know I had to play guitar in front of the class today.

"Well," I admit happily, "surprisingly."

"I don't think it's surprising, Kim. You're very talented," she responds with a gentle smile.

"Thanks, Mitchie." I look around and realize that Caitlyn is nowhere in sight. Usually, she would be talking to Ella at the beginning of class, but she's not even in the room yet. "Where's Caitlyn?"

"Talking to Jason," Mitchie answers, laughing quietly.

"They really like each other, don't they?" I say, chuckling a bit.

"Yeah," she says. Then she smirks at me. "A bit like two other people I know."

"Mitchie, please."

"Hey, guys," Caitlyn says, bounding in exuberantly.

"Well, you're happy," Mitchie says, elbowing Caitlyn and winking.

I tune out their conversation when I notice a boy trying to talk to Tess. He's sitting next to her, his eyes intent upon her face. She flippantly responds to something he says.

"Yeah, whatever."

"So do you want to dance with me?"

I feel bad. He sounds so hopeful.

"What? Dance with you at Costume Jam?" She laughs. "No."

He physically deflates and goes back to his seat in the back of the class. Tess seems to think it's hilarious and even his own friends can't help smiling despite the reassuring pats on the back they offer.

I turn to Mitchie and Caitlyn. "What's Costume Jam?"

"You don't know about Costume Jam?" Both girls respond in shock.

I shake my head sheepishly.

"It's tomorrow. It's a jam, but more than that, it's a dance," Caitlyn explains. "People usually go with their friends, rather than going with dates."

"Oh," is all I can say. Then, "Are either of you performing?"

"I am," Caitlyn responds. "Mitchie?"

"No, but I happen to know that Connect 3 is playing a new song at the dance," she says, lowering her voice so the people around us can't hear. "It's a surprise though, so don't tell anyone."

"I promise," Caitlyn agrees solemnly.

"Me too," I say.

"Okay, okay, quiet down," Uncle Brown says, striding into the room. "Sorry I'm late. There was a question about the costumes."

Now everyone's attention is solely on Brown.

"As you know, tomorrow is Costume Jam. And every year, a local costume shop provides the costumes for the dance. The costumes are being delivered tonight. Directly after breakfast tomorrow, you'll be able to choose your costumes," he informs us. "Any questions?"

Several people raise their hands.

"Just kidding. You'll find out everything tomorrow at breakfast." Uncle Brown laughs to himself at his joke. The rest of us give him weirded-out looks. "Okay, now, on to singing. We've got a big number we need to perfect."

* * *

The mess hall is buzzing. Tonight is Costume Jam, and in a few minutes, we'll get to pick our costumes. I'm sitting with Mitchie and Caitlyn on the side of the room for girls. When we walked in, we saw signs directing us to sit on opposite sides of the room from the boys. Why, I have no idea.

Brown walks in and steps onto a table near the center of the room.

"Okay, everyone. I know you're eager to look through the costumes. You'll be going in groups of five into the rooms where the costumes are stored. Girls' costumes are in the hip-hop room and boys' costumes are in the singing classroom. The order will be chosen randomly. Dee, would you please help me pass out these slips of paper?"

Dee gets up from her seat among the girls and takes the blank papers from Brown. While Dee goes around handing out the slips, Brown hands out pens to everyone.

"Please right your name on the paper."

As we do so, Dee comes around picking up the papers from the girls' side, collecting them into a hat. Brown does the same for the boys, putting the papers into a bowl. Both then stand up on the table again and Brown speaks.

"Okay, the first group of girls will be," he begins, mixing the slips of paper and allowing Dee to pick. He then reads off the names. The only one I know who is among them is Sandy. The five girls follow Dee to the hip-hop room, where she will be supervising. It appears that they don't trust us not to fight over the costumes.

Brown calls Shane up to help choose the boys. The only name I recognize is Shane, though I notice the boy who was talking to Tess yesterday is there as well. I also discover that Connie is overseeing the boys' selection of costumes.

Mitchie is called in the second group, and Caitlyn (and Tess) in the fourth. Jason and Nate are called for the boys' third group, while I have to wait until the last group of girls. By the time I get there, most of the costumes have been taken. I sigh and subject myself to the tedious task of choosing something to wear. Clothing has never been my strong suit. Fortunately, Mitchie and Caitlyn come back to help me. Dee has left by then because I'm the last person left and she trusts me to not mess anything up.

"What do you think of this?" Caitlyn asks, holding up an angel costume.

"It's pretty, I guess," I say, but I dismiss it. "Wings might get in the way."

"True," Caitlyn admits, putting it away. "And I think it was too big for you."

"Ooh, look at this," Mitchie squeals. She shows us a witch's costume, which actually looks quite cool but would probably scare people off. I think she realizes that, too, because she puts it back pretty fast. We go through a genie (too large), fairy (too small), vampire (not my thing), and princess (with a skirt so wide I'd knock over chairs) without success. Unfortunately, the choices are a bit limited. Nevertheless, I have two friends who are determined to find me the perfect costume.

"_This _is perfect!" Mitchie shouts from somewhere behind a clothing rack. She pokes her head in between the clothes. "Didn't you say you're a dancer?"

"Yes," I answer, confused. I'm holding a French maid outfit, which is the best we've found so far, even if it is a bit (very) suggestive.

"Have you ever done ballet?" she asks, grinning.

"A little. Never got to the pointe shoes, though," I state. "I'm a bit too clumsy for that. I'd break my ankle."

"Well, tonight you're going to be a ballerina," Mitchie declares.

"Isn't that usually a bit childish?"

"Not with this costume."

* * *

"I'm not sure, Mitchie."

"You look beautiful, Kim. Better than either of us."

"If it's so great, then why didn't anyone pick it up sooner?"

"Because it was hidden," Mitchie answers, walking out of the bathroom in her Tinker Bell costume. It comes down to just above her knees and she seems only slightly uncomfortable in the strapless dress. She adjusts the small wings and fusses with her hair. "Besides, you're shorter than most people so you're the only one who fits it perfectly."

Caitlyn, dressed as a sailor, comes up beside me in front of the mirror. She really does look adorable, with white knee-high socks, blue skirt, white shirt, and white sailor cap.

I study my own costume for the fifth time tonight. The white dress comes down to my knees with a layered skirt and flimsy top. A peach-pink corset covers the almost see-through material and squeezes my already-skinny figure. A pale pink ribbon is tied around my waist. I'm wearing pointe shoes, but I hope no one asks me to go en pointe. I really would break my ankle.

"Let me put your hair up," Caitlyn volunteers. I sit down on the bed and she expertly pulls my straight pale blonde hair into a tight bun befitting a ballerina. I let Mitchie apply light makeup (something I know nothing about). Then we're ready to go.

* * *

It's a bit like a Halloween party. While campers take turns performing on an elevated platform, the rest dance in the middle of the cafeteria. The tables have been moved outside, but most of the chairs remain, pushed to the sides. When I walk in with Mitchie and Caitlyn, my eyes roam across the room, taking in all of the costumes. _Wow, what a wide variety_, I think to myself, observing the ladybugs, pirates, firemen, and Renaissance men and women. I can see Shane walking over to us immediately. He's dressed as a police officer, complete with a hat and a moustache even.

"Shane, what's with the police officer getup?" Mitchie asks, giggling.

"What? Don't you like it? I've always wondered what it would be like to be a policeman. Well, after a lion tamer and a mailman."

We all give him equally confused stares.

"Isn't that a bit boring for you, Shane?" I ask for all of us.

"What? A lion tamer?"

"No! A mailman."

He gives me a defiant glare. "I can make anything interesting."

Mitchie rolls her eyes. "Well, at least you look hot."

"Thank you," he declares, beaming. Then, without asking, he pulls Mitchie to the dance floor and begins making out with her while they dance.

"Well, that's nice," I say sarcastically.

"I'm going to dance," Caitlyn states, her eyes glued to the dancing teenagers.

"Do you see Jason there?" I ask, smirking (quite like Shane, I'm almost afraid to admit).

She blushes and disappears into the crowd. I smile to myself (I didn't actually think he was the reason) and make my way to the refreshment table near the kitchen door. There are platters of fruit, trays of cookies and brownies, and coolers full of soda cans and water bottles. I loiter there for a little while, debating whether to take a Pepsi or a Sprite. I finally just grab a water bottle and sit down in a chair facing the makeshift stage. Tess is performing right now, dressed as a woman from Ancient Greece. She and her two backup singers are wearing togas and sandals.

_You can call it what you want_

_But I'm not playing games_

_We're both a part of the same story_

_Not on the same page_

_And I see you standing there_

_With that dirty little stare_

_Well it freaks me out inside_

_So maybe you should just beware_

Someone sits down next to me and I'm surprised to see it's Mark, the boy from my singing class. I don't say anything. I just give him a confused glance. He's dressed as Danny from _Grease_.

"Kim, right?"

"Yes."

"I'm Mark Lambert," he introduces.

"Um, nice to meet you?"

Then we're silent. Mark watches Tess perform with a sad smile on his face.

"Do you know that she's singing to me?"

"Is she?" I'm not particularly interested, but I do feel sorry for him, considering her message is: leave me alone.

_My love is not up for negotiation_

_Hello doesn't mean an open invitation_

_Don't take it personally 'cause_

_You and me, we're wrong_

_So move on_

"Yeah. I asked her to dance with me but she rejected me," he says. Although he says it very casually, I can tell he's a bit put out.

"Not to be rude or anything," I start, "but why are you telling me this?"

"Because you're the only one sitting out and I thought you might want to dance with me," he explains, still watching blonde girl on stage.

"What's that got to do with Tess?"

"Well, I know, as everyone else does, that you and Tess don't exactly…get along. And what better way to show her up than to dance with you?"

"That's very flattering," I remark, sarcasm dripping from every word. "You certainly can charm a girl."

He laughs, a loud and open laugh that catches the attention of the people nearby.

"Sorry, Kim. I didn't mean to be cruel," he apologizes, still laughing a bit. "But I thought you wouldn't mind since you seem to be spoken for already. I didn't think you'd be interested in me."

"What do you mean by _spoken for_?" I ask, a panicked feeling growing inside me. Does everyone know that I like Nate?

_Now I'm not saying you're not nice_

_Let me give you some advice_

_There's a girl across the room_

_Who'd kill to be with you tonight_

_She's been looking over here_

_And she's made it pretty clear_

_So don't lose your chance with her_

_By trying to get so damn near me_

As Tess launches into the chorus again, Mark answers me. "Well, I just mean that you like someone already. I'm sorry that's not working out, by the way. It must be tough when your own friend is dating him. But it seems that your –"

"_What_ are you talking about?" I ask, now thoroughly confused.

"Shane, of course. The two of you seem very close. And although he's with Mitchie," he begins again before I cut him off with a burst of laughter that is very uncharacteristic of me.

"_Shane_? You think I like _Shane_?" I shake my head. "No, no, you've got it all wrong. Shane's my cousin. That's why we're so close. But that's it." I laugh again, muttering to myself. "Shane. Hah! Liking Shane…"

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Kim," he says. "That's embarrassing." He looks up at Tess again. "Would you do me a favor though? Will you dance with me?"

I laugh again and he flinches. Oh, right. Tess laughed at him. "Of course, Mark." I get up readily, still laughing a bit. "Hah, Shane…"

He grins, too, apparently perfectly happy to laugh at his own mistakes.

Tess is somewhere in the bridge of the song now, but both of us are having too much fun to care. It's nice to let go with a new friend, even if he isn't a very good dancer. I feel pretty and confident for the first time in a long while and I laugh more than I have in years.

"You look like you're enjoying yourself," Jason interjects as he and Caitlyn appear next to us. He's dressed as a bullfighter. His shiny gold pants and jacket actually look quite stylish, and he's carrying a red piece of fabric draped over his shoulder.

"So do you!" I respond. It's true. Both are wearing huge smiles and are moving much more in sync than the two of us. "Are you performing soon, Caitlyn?"

"Yeah, I'm next! Oh, I'd better go get ready. Thanks, Kim!" she exclaims, pecking Jason on the cheek before she skips away. Jason is left standing there with a wide grin. Even I'm smiling for them (not that I wasn't smiling before), especially because it seemed that Caitlyn did it unconsciously.

Tess finishes her performance and everyone claps. I can see she's staring at Mark and me with a frown on her face. I smile at Mark and grab his arm as Caitlyn goes on stage. Tess's frown deepens, but she seems confused, too. She disappears into the crowd of dancers, though, and I lose sight of her.

"I think it worked," I whisper into Mark's ear. Oh, I can see her again, and she's throwing confused glares into my direction.

"I think it's working, too," Mark agrees, nudging me to turn around. I take a brief glance behind me and I can see someone staring at me, though I can't tell whom it is because he's wearing a mask. He's dressed as the phantom of the opera, a choice that I approve of complete, as _Phantom _is one of my favorite musicals. He's wearing the traditional suit and cape, as well as the half-mask, which covers the right side of his face (which is, incidentally, the side that is facing me). It's Nate. I know it is. Call it woman's intuition. I look away as he starts to turn, but when I glance back, he's gone. Why do I have to be so short? I can't see over everyone's head!

Caitlyn's working her magic soon enough and we begin dancing again, and I push aside all thoughts of Nate and focus on having fun. It doesn't turn out to be too hard.

* * *

_A/N: So I hope the length of this chapter made up for the wait. It's the longest chapter so far. I've started the next chapter already. I think I'm finally getting through this story again. Don't worry! It's my first priority on FanFiction to finish this._

_A note on Shane's costume: I couldn't help it after seeing Joe in his police uniform. Too good to pass up!_

_And Kim's costume: I actually got this idea from watching _Phantom of the Opera_, in which Meg wears a similar ballet outfit, only with a blue ribbon._


End file.
